Uncertain Times Page 6

  Late one afternoon Jim sat in a rocking chair on the front deck of the cabin writing in a book with Carl sitting at his feet.

  August 24th

  Our group’s growing impatient. They know what’s happening out there, yet they want to do nothing to stop it. What can they do? They could take the fight to the enemy, or they could continue doing nothing and hope it gets better on its own. A decision will need to be made shortly.

  “What’re you doing out here by yourself?” Mary asked as she walked over.

  “I’ve been thinking about what’s happened so far and what’s going to happen. I’ve been keeping a sort of a journal so we don’t forget any of this.”

  “I’d like to read it if you don’t mind. And you know it’s out of your control, babe.”

  “Not entirely,” Jim reassured her. “If I can help it, I won’t let anything happen to you, the kids or any of our friends.”

  “We all know that, but you have to remember, this is the hardest thing that most of these people have ever had to endure. It will take its toll on them.”

  “I’ve wondered why you’ve been so quiet lately. Are you OK? I’m sorry if I’ve been distant. I’ve had so much on my mind.”

  “I’ll be fine as long as I have you.” Mary sat on Jim’s lap and rocked with him as the sun set ruby red over the distant mountains.

  September 14th

  The days have passed slowly and turned into weeks as nothing happens. We simply wait. Bill and some of the others have tried to keep the group busy doing chores and such, but several of them have lost interest in the activities. The kids have been the ones who are really going stir-crazy. There have been more arguments lately and some knock out, drag out fights. Board games and movies keep them occupied most of the time, but it’s simply not enough.

  “We caught another group today walking up the northern ridge,” Jim told Bill as they sat by the fireplace one evening.

  “I heard. Did these people say the same as the rest we’ve come across?”

  “They did. People have been beaten and shot in the streets, not only by the U.N. troops, by local gangs, as well.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “What can we do?”

  “We can do more than what we have been, especially with winter on the way. More people are going to die,” Bill said.

  “I know they will, but we can’t bring them here. What other options do we have?”

  “If I remember correctly, the tunnel beyond the rooms eventually opens up into a large cavern. There happen to be lots of spurs off of it and could be made into living quarters, if we had more help.”

  “We’ll start exploring,” Jim said. “That will give us all something to do.”

  “We can start tomorrow. The perimeter security’s already the best we could imagine with the man power and resources at our disposal.

  “What’re we starting tomorrow?” Rick interjected as he walked up.

  “We’re going to explore more of the cave system and see if we can turn some of it into living quarters,” Jim said.

  “Living quarters for who?”

  “These people we keep turning away,” Bill said.

  “What can I do to help?” Rick offered.

  They started planning but soon realized how difficult the task would be. The idea was put on the back burner, for now.

  The entire group had recently hunted more and most of them were fairly successful. A black bear had been taken by Rick’s wife, Susan, on one outing and a few rabbits and spruce grouse had been brought back, too.

  One rainy day in late September, Bill and Terry had gone moose hunting early in the morning. Terry barged through the front door of the cabin around noon, excited and out of breath.

  “Rick, Jim!” he called.

  “Where’s your dad? Is he OK?” Jim demanded as he grabbed the boy.

  “He’s…He’s fine, but we need your help. We need quite a bit of help, actually.”

  “What the hell did you two do?” Rick asked him.

  Terry filled a glass with water from the tap, gulped it down and took a deep breath before continuing.

  “We came across ten or twelve cow moose in a valley not far from here. We turned off the four-wheelers, watched and listened for a short time. We heard some grunting coming from below us. We made our way across the ridge to a cluster of birch trees, without being spotted. Before long, a large bull came into view and walked behind some alders. My dad started grunting to draw him back out. A few minutes later, two massive bulls, each of them more than sixty inches across, walked out into the open and started challenging like none I’ve ever seen. The bulls put their heads down and locked up, then started pushing each other. Then they both backed up, looked at one another and hit racks with a thud!” Terry was so excited he was talking with his hands and used sound effects. “My dad grunted again and the moose stared at each other, listening. We decided to shoot both of them, and that’s why I’m here, guys.”

  Smiles grew across both Jim and Rick’s faces.

  “Well, let’s go get some meat,” Jim proposed.

  “I’ll go get Matt, Naythan and some of the older boys,” Rick said.

  “Terry and I will go hook the trailers to the other four-wheelers.”

  Rick disappeared into the tunnels as Jim and Terry walked outside.

  “So, how big are these moose and how far away are they?” Jim asked.

  “They’re the biggest moose I’ve ever seen up close, and we’ve bagged some big ones. They’re only a few miles away. We hadn’t gone far away from here when we found them.”

  The rest of the help met Jim and Terry outside. They had meat sacks, rifles, skinning knives and bone saws. Kyle, Jim’s middle son, walked over with Carl on a leash. “Can I come with you?”

  “Yes, but take that leash off him,” Jim told Kyle. “He doesn’t need that thing.”

  “I didn’t know Kyle liked it outside,” Rick quipped to Jim.

  “He doesn’t, and since he’s such a mama’s boy it’s hard to get him to do anything with me.”

  “Getting some fresh air will do him some good,” Rick reassured Jim. “He’ll come around.”

  They piled on their rides and moved out to help Bill. Carl ran alongside the wheelers, glad to be outside. The canine would stop and sniff trees and bushes along the way, marking territory and catching back up. His tail wagged continuously.

  Halfway to the moose kills, Carl disappeared into some alders and was soon barking, then just as quickly started yelping. He ran out of the trees with a bloody snout. When he got closer to the group, they could see he had porcupine quills sticking out of his face. Jim got off his wheeler and called Carl over to him.

  “Having some fun with the local’s boy?” Jim asked his dog.

  Carl whined in pain, so Jim retrieved a pair of pliers out of the front cover of the ATV and proceeded to pull out the quills. Carl fought him some but knew Jim only wanted to help.

  Almost an hour later they reached the kill site. Bill had almost completely skinned one of the behemoths and was wiping sweat from his brow. Terry hadn’t exaggerated. The bulls were monsters. Jim and the other men got to work skinning, gutting and quartering the game. At one point, the slight rain that had been falling all day turned into a downpour for about 20 minutes, soaking them to the bone.

  Todd took some pictures of the large animals and the process. With the group of men, both moose were done being dressed out in less than two hours, even with interruption by the angry cow they had to chase off three times. She kept approaching with her neck hair up and ears back. She would stomp the ground and didn’t relent even when Carl growled at her.

  “You boys stay close to the ATVs,” Jim told the younger kids when the cow started her advances.

  “I think she’s pissed at you, Bill,” Matt chuckled.

  “It’s normal for females to be mad at him,” Terry said.

  “You took her men away from her,” Naythan commented.

 
; “Ha, ha, guys,” was all Bill could muster.

  They laughed when she approached, growing louder each time. She finally left them alone when Bill stood up and threw a large stick at her. It hit the ground at her feet and must’ve scared her.

  “It’s going to be dark soon,” Jim said interrupting the fun. “We need to load up and start heading back so we can hang this meat.”

  “Isn’t this great?” Bill said to Jim as he stood up, holding his lower back. “They look so happy, like everything’s normal and our lives haven’t changed one bit.”

  Jim and Bill looked around at the others enthralled in conversation while tying the moose quarters to the wheelers.

  “You’re right, buddy,” Jim agreed, “This is great.”

  They headed out. Rick was in the lead with Naythan riding on the rear padded rack and Danny in the trailer with some of the meat when he stopped his wheeler not far down the trail.

  “Rick, what’s wrong?” Jim yelled as the caravan stopped. “This spot looks flooded. I’m going to walk ahead and make sure we can keep going.”

  The rain had slowed, but growing streams were now rushing from the higher elevations, making the return trip more difficult.

  “I think we can make it,” Rick told them as he returned.

  “It’s dark out, why aren’t they back yet?” Susan showed concern as she stared out the large bay window of the cabin.

  “They’ll be back shortly,” Mary reassured her. “There are enough of them to be able to handle any situation. Speaking of handling, how’s Jessie taking to life here? I haven’t seen her much. How did you and Rick react to her cutting off her hair?”

  “I think she’s OK. She talks to Rick more these days than she does me. The haircut did surprise us, but not as much as the tattoos and piercings. How’s Alexis doing?”

  “With no internet or cell service, she’s pretty much gone comatose. Alexis got her nose pierced, too, but she’s technically an adult now.”

  “We should try and get the girls talking. I’m sure it would help them both.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Mary told her, before pausing briefly and looking out the kitchen window. “The guys are here. I knew they would be OK.”

  Susan could see headlights from several four-wheelers approaching the outbuildings.

  “Now that’s a sound I haven’t heard much of lately,” Mary said as the men and boys came inside.

  “The laughter?” Jim asked while he took off his soaked jacket and hung it on the rack by the door. “It’s been going on for hours. We have one great story to tell all of you.”

  “You can tell it over dinner. I just have to heat it back up.”

  As Danny walked in, Carl pushed his way through the group and shook his coat off in front of the fire, getting water everywhere. Bill’s German shepherd, Sassy, lay nearby and didn’t look amused.

  “Carl, come here, boy,” Mary told him. He saw she had a towel in her hands and darted down the tunnel, with Mary close behind.

  “When’s dinner?” Cody asked, prompting some of the other kids to ask, as well.

  “Everyone go change out of those wet clothes and wash up. Dinner will be ready soon,” Jim told them.

  Rick and Susan were walking back into the cabin from the tunnel leading to the rooms when they heard laughter coming from the dining room.

  “And then she ran back at Bill and stomped and snorted. He picked up a stick and threw it at her while yelling, ‘go on now, you get!’” Kyle stood up telling the story of the hunt while the majority ate and tried not to choke on their food.

  “He looks so happy,” Mary beamed.

  “I know getting out and spending some time with us did him wonders,” Jim said, putting his arm around his wife.

  “When do we get to go back and do it again, dad?” Kyle asked.

  “I think we have enough meat for now, bud,” Bill said.

  “He’s right, son, but when we do go, you’re definitely coming.”

  Mary smiled at Jim, then heard a whimper. “What’s wrong with Carl?” she asked, seeing he was having a hard time eating.

  “I almost forgot, Jim said. “He tangled with a porcupine.

  “Oh, poor guy! Did you get all the quills out?”

  “I believe so, but in the meantime I’ll soften his food with some warm water.”

  Conversation and laughter continued on into late evening. More stories and happiness filled the room, a rare occurrence in the new life they shared.

  “Perimeter alert,” came across the radio one calm, cool October afternoon, less than a week after the moose hunt. Bill sat on monitor duty.

  “What do we have, Bill, more locals?” asked Matt, as he and the others who heard the radio call congregated in the cabin.

  “Not this time boys. This looks like the real deal.”

  “A well-instructed people alone can be permanently a free people.”

  —James Madison

  Chapter Eleven

  “We have heavy incoming people, armored vehicles and troop transports,” Rick said.

  “Rick, grab a .50 cal this time,” Jim said, pointing at the map. “I want you 1,000 yards southeast of the cabin to draw their fire away from Team Two when we need it. We’ll be flanking the trucks here,” Jim circled a section of road near the gate. “Team One, I want you 100 yards southeast of theses gravel pits. We’ll draw them in and pick them off. I want confusion here, people. Teams will fire in succession to start with, and then bring the rain! Matt, I want you and Matthew to set up here and here with your scoped rifles.” Jim tapped on the map this time. “I want you displacing after every two rounds. Bill, Rick, what are your thoughts?”

  “One of our wandering friends received payment for information about us, is what I think,” Bill offered.

  “About the plan — what do you think about the plan?”

  “I think it’s solid,” Rick said while Bill nodded his head in agreement.

  “Bill, we need you and Terry this time,” Jim told him. “Take Mary and Susan into the tree position and don’t shoot until the troops advance on Team One. This will confuse them. Hopefully we’ll take them out quickly. Don’t compromise your position. Take out a few and stop until they advance again. Everyone go to the armory and load up on ammo. Check each other’s gear before leaving. We can’t afford mistakes, people. Mistakes lead to casualties. We can’t let that happen. Stay out of the line of fire and use concealment whenever you can. We have the high ground and the element of surprise.”

  “Are we ready for this?” Rick asked Jim.

  “We’re about to find out.”

  The military vehicles stopped a few hundred yards from the cabin, just short of the locked gate across the road, and troops jumped out.

  “They’re cutting the lock on the gate now,” Jim relayed over the radio. “Hold your fire until I give the word.”

  Enemy troops were fanning out and advancing on foot behind the vehicles.

  Jim called on the radio as the troops continued to move forward. “OK, people, I count more than fifty troops. On my count, Rick, take out the turret gunner. Matt, take the driver of the lead vehicle. Matthew, hit the driver of the rear vehicle, and then shoot whoever looks in charge. One, two, three, now!”

  The initial shooting made the troops stop in their tracks, and then they dove for cover and started shooting back.

  “Danny, let ‘em have it!” Jim yelled over the gunfire as Danny opened up with a SAW they had acquired.

  Jim fired a few rounds, hit some men and started relaying info on the two-way. “Bill, do you see the group moving toward the treeline to the east?”

  “I see ‘em.”

  “Don’t let them get there.”

  “Roger that.”

  “I can’t,” Susan cried after she shot a couple times.

  “It’s OK,” Mary said, trying to comfort her. “Keep your head down and hand me full magazines when I ask for them.”

  Rick’s voice came across the radio. “Nayth
an, I need you to open up your machine-gun on the willow patch three hundred yards in front of you to your left.”

  “I don’t see where you’re talking about.”

  “Large willow patch, your other left. They’re shooting right now!”

  “OK, I’ve got ‘em.”

  The suppressive fire mowed down the shrubs and the men behind them, even from over three hundred yards away.

  “What’s that sound?” Danny asked over the radio.

  “It sounds like a Huey,” Bill broke in.

  “What’s a Huey?” Eric asked, just as a jungle camouflaged Bell UH-1 helicopter rose from a low ridge behind the enemy troops and vehicles. The distinct sound of the bird could normally be heard from some distance away, but with the battle raging, nobody heard it approaching until it appeared. Door gunners sprayed Team One with a hail of bullets as the aircraft slowly circled above.

  Jim’s voice came back on the radio, “Those of you who can, concentrate your fire on the helicopter. We need to take it out.”

  As fast as it appeared, the helicopter was shot down. Someone had hit it and it started smoking and spinning out of control. Because of the chaos, no one could tell at first who or what shot it down.

  “I have you guys covered,” a voice radioed.

  “Who is this?” Jim answered back.

  “It’s Tristan. I think I shot it down.”

  “With what?”

  “Your .50 cal.”

  “You’re showing some spunk, kid,” Bill relayed. “Jim, I don’t see much movement down there now. Maybe you should walk through the area.”

  “I’m taking Team Two down to check it out. Those of you still in elevated positions, cover us. Did anyone get hit?” Jim asked.

  “I took a couple of rounds to my chest,” Matthew announced. “But my SAPI plates took the brunt of it.”

  “Maybe you should’ve stayed here with me instead of going Tony Montana down there,” Matt interjected.

  “Tony who?”

  “So, you’re OK, Matthew?” Jim interrupted with growing impatience in his voice.

  “Yea, I’m good. Just a flesh wound to my right arm.”

  Empty shell casings, blood and bodies littered the ground. They walked through the kill zone to finish off the wounded.