Exodus Page 18

  Some of the men looked at him as though he was crazy before turning and walking away. Only one felt he was being pressured into going along and said so loud enough for all the others to hear. Most of them ignored him as they headed back to join their families.

  Jason walked through the ditch to where his wife and daughter were sitting, anxiously looking up at him. As he started to speak, Clare spoke first, “I overheard. So, you’re going back?”

  “I am. I owe those men.”

  She nodded. He wasn’t sure whether it meant she agreed with his decision or was just acknowledging that she understood, which he knew couldn’t be confused with agreement. “And what if you’re the only one that wants to go back?” she asked.

  “I’m still going. I have to.” He paused, hoping for approval. “Do you understand why?”

  “I understand why you feel you need to,” she responded. “But, have you thought about us? What are we suppose to do while you’re off on your errand of mercy? Stay here and hope you come back eventually? How long do we wait? How long is too long? And who’s going to take care of us if you don’t come back?” she asked in rapid succession, her frustration showing, her voice growing louder with each question.

  Jason knew his wife well enough to know she wasn’t angry, only concerned. And why shouldn’t she be? He had taken his family from a less than desirable situation, and had possibly placed them in a worse one. And there was always the possibility he wouldn’t be back. There shouldn’t have been much danger at the governor’s compound unless he caught a stray bullet from one of the few remaining guards, if there were any. But her concerns were valid. Accidents happened.

  “I’ll be back. I promise.”

  She felt like it was an empty promise, spoken to somehow reassure her, which it didn’t. He had made it clear he was going regardless of what she said. She didn’t see the point in arguing any more about it. “We’ll be here when you get back,” she stated matter-of-factly. There was no emotion in her voice this time. She was angry, but she was concealing it, perhaps until a later time.

  Jason saw that the men were coming back. He stepped back to the center of the road to meet them. They stopped out of earshot, coming together to talk a final time among themselves, some of the men fairly animated. After a few moments, they disbanded and came toward him. As the last of them reached him, they fell silent.

  “What have you decided?” Jason asked.

  One stepped forward. “We don’t like the idea of leaving our families here in the open, vulnerable and unprotected. However, even though there was some disagreement, we’ve decided as a group to stay together and come with you, as long as some of the men stay behind for protection.”

  A broad smile spread across Jason’s face. “That sounds perfectly reasonable. Those who stay behind should move the women and children to the other side of the tree row and off the trail, just in case a threat comes along while we’re gone. It would probably be for the best if we left the horses with them too.” Heads in the crowd nodded agreement. “Good. Say your goodbyes and we’ll be off.”

  “We already did. We’re ready to go.”

  The men moved off with Jason leading the way.

  Clare was now standing, their five-year-old clutching at her mother’s leg. Jason could see that his wife’s features had softened, her jaw no longer set in stone and her eyes red and moist. He walked over, kneeled down and gave his daughter a hug and a kiss. Standing, he gave Clare a peck on her forehead. Looking into her eyes, he repeated with conviction, “I’ll be back. I promise.” This time she wanted to believe him.

  ***

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  John and Gant arrived back at the prison to find the men actively loading the two wagons backed up to the freight doors. They were functioning like a well oiled machine, those loading in sync with those carrying boxes from the lower level. Ryder was overseeing the work with Darby at his side, undoubtedly grateful to have his friend back. Darby loudly repeated each of Ryder’s directions.

  “Where are Aaron and Adam?” asked Gant.

  “They’re downstairs, pointing out where to find what we need,” answered Ryder.

  Gant nodded. “How long until we’re ready to go?”

  “Maybe thirty minutes,” said Darby.

  “You should know,” began John, “the people from Tent City will be coming soon to take what they can carry too.”

  “I hope they wait until we’re through,” Darby said indignantly. “Or we’ll be tripping all over each other.”

  “I asked them to wait until the wagons are loaded and we’ve moved out of the way.”

  “Then we need to hurry and finish up,” said Ryder.

  “They better keep their hands off these wagons,” Darby chimed in.

  “They won’t touch the wagons,” assured John.

  “It would have been better if you’d said something to them after we were loaded,” said Ryder, a bit of frustration showing, which was a rarity.

  “We thought you might be done by now,” John explained. “Sorry.”

  “Well, it’s too late for that now,” said Gant. “We should get everything loaded before they get here.” He climbed down off his horse and jumped onto the dock to help get the wagons loaded.

  John wondered how the tent people were going to haul off what they needed. Many of the items were in bulk, sorted and stored away in boxes after the collection details had returned from their scavenging trips. He supposed they’d have to break open the boxes and carry away only what they could fit in their arms or wrap in bundles.

  “I take it there aren’t any of the Guard left at Tent City either?” asked Ryder.

  “They’re all gone,” answered Gant as he handed off a box to one of the loaders.

  “What are the people of Tent City going to do now?” Ryder asked. “Where are they going to go?”

  “Nowhere. They want to stay and continue to take care of the crops in the fields, the vegetables in the garden, and the livestock. They want to stay together and start a real community, on their terms.”

  Darby scoffed. “It’ll serve them right if Davis starts over. They’ll just be his slaves again.”

  “After all this, you really think he can find more men to recruit into his Guard?” asked John.

  “I don’t know why not. There will always be men out there who’ll jump at the chance to join up,” said Darby, “after he’s filled their heads with promises of food, housing, and safety, especially if they have families. How do you suppose he got this last group?”

  Gant heard what Darby said. He looked at John, but remained silent. He couldn’t argue with Darby’s reasoning. There was a good deal of truth in what he said. Men would do desperate things for their families’ safety and survival. He had.

  “We’d all be better off if someone was to go up there, drag him down here, and shoot him against that wall,” concluded Darby.

  They exchanged looks, briefly considering the idea. Gant had been forced to do things he wasn’t proud of and had as much reason as anyone else to want him dead. He changed the subject, trying to be the voice of reason. “We don’t know exactly how many of the Guard stayed behind and are up there with him. Let’s just take care of our business and leave.”

  No one seemed opposed to doing just that. It didn’t really matter to Darby, he’d just been him thinking out loud. They planned on being long gone before Davis re-emerged.

  John heard a commotion behind him, turning around in his saddle to see what it was. The people from Tent City were coming. The crowd was moving quickly, stirring up a light dust cloud by the hundreds of feet on the dirt road. John quickly mounted up and rode out to meet them with Gant joining him. They stopped in the crowd’s path and held up their hands for them to stop. Briefly, those in front seemed to slow down, but the momentum of the mass behind them pushed the crowd forward, causing a collision of bodies.

  “You can’t stop us!” yelled one man as he was forced past them.

  “Hold
it!” shouted Gant, thinking they might listen to him. He wanted to give the others a chance to finish loading the wagons before the crowd overtook them. They ignored him, passing on both sides of him and John, their horses becoming skittish at being confined and pushed from both sides. The crowd was too large to control and they became more driven the closer they came, eager and anxious to take items they had been deprived of for so long. They wouldn’t be denied, and there was nothing John or Gant could do about it. Using violence to stop them wasn’t a consideration. They had done nothing wrong. Having lived in Tent City for five years, John understood all too well what they were feeling.

  Darby and Ryder had noticed when John and Gant rode off. Now they saw why. The tent people were approaching the gate. Unless they wanted to be trampled to death, they needed to finish up and get out of their way.

  “Darby, go get our boys out of the lower level,” directed Ryder. “And someone, pull these two wagons out of their way.”

  The mob of people was almost to the gate, picking up momentum, some of those in front beginning to run.

  Over the sound of the crowd a distinct sound became apparent. Ryder, Darby, and the others looked overhead to see a black helicopter hovering over them, beginning a slow descent.

  “Get inside!” Ryder yelled to those standing on the dock. Gant and John galloped their horses back to the prison past the stunned and confused crowd.

  ***

  “What do you make of this?” Governor Grayson asked the pilot.

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Well, it looks to me like the compound is being overrun. Can we set down?” asked the chief governor.

  The pilot looked over his shoulder, looking at Grayson as though he was crazy. “You mean here? Now?”

  “It’s what we’re here for,” said Grayson.

  The pilot gave a faint nod and then began a slow descent into the open area just inside the gate. The moving mass of people nearing the gate attempted to stop as they became aware of the helicopter landing in front of them. The ones leading the way were forced to dig in their heels to keep the momentum from driving them into the danger zone. Everyone was looking up, afraid, not knowing what to expect. Who was it and why were they there? Were they friend or foe?

  The crowd began to push back, away from the gate. Fearing the worst, the crowd scattered, running in all directions for cover.

  Just as the helicopter was about to land, a bullet struck and ricocheted off the bulletproof windshield of the Blackhawk with a loud “CRACK.” Caught completely by surprise, the pilot instinctively pulled back quickly on the controls, moving them back up and away, stopping to hover only after believing they were at a safe distance.

  ***

  Jason and the others stopped and stared at the commotion near the prison. The Tent City people were running away from it and a helicopter was landing near the gate. They recognized it as the chief governor’s. Some of those with Jason began to back away.

  “You said there shouldn’t be any risk,” he heard one of them say. “This changes everything.”

  They had to assume Davis had asked for help and that there were reinforcements in the helicopter. And, knowing Davis and Damon, they most likely had been reported as danger to the governor. This did change everything.

  They heard a shot fired and watched as the helicopter flew off. None of them were willing to take on the chief governor’s men, including Jason.

  “I saw Gant and his friend on horseback,” one of the others volunteered.

  “They must have reached John and his brother then,” reasoned Jason. “Anyone object to going back to our families?”

  There was no argument. They were finally free of Davis and Damon. The Raiders were on their own.

  ***

  “Where are they going?” asked Governor Davis frantically, waving his arms, hoping to attract the pilot’s attention from his office window.

  He, Damon, and Peck had been watching the helicopter descend, celebrating the arrival of Chief Governor Grayson. But now, the celebration appeared to have been premature.

  They hadn’t known how much danger they were actually in. Only able to wait, afraid the Raiders or former Guard would force their way past their barricade before the chief governor arrived. Both groups had reason enough to get at them.

  Damon had heard the shot and knew what had happened. “One of the Raiders took a shot at them!” he answered Davis angrily.

  “Get them to come back!” shouted Davis.

  “And how do you suggest I do that?” snapped Damon, momentarily losing control and his patience with the governor.

  ***

  Shocked by the sound of a shot being fired near him, John looked to see who’d pulled the trigger. Darby was at the door, his rifle pointed at the helicopter with smoke rolling from the barrel. Gant quickly stepped over to him and jerked the gun from his hands, but not before another shot was fired, this time missing the helicopter altogether. Gant shoved Darby back and slammed the freight doors closed.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Gant demanded, turning on him.

  “Getting rid of them. And you should be helping. You have to know they’re here to help the governor.”

  “Probably,” said Gant, “but maybe not. We don’t know who they are or why they’re here. You didn’t give us a chance to find out.”

  “Whoever it is, now they know we mean business,” declared Darby.

  “And what if they take it out on the crowd?” asked Gant.

  “Why would they do that? They’re not a threat. And besides, they scattered when the helicopter showed up,” Darby continued to argue.

  “That may be,” said Gant, “but now they’ll probably see everyone on the ground as a threat. And now we may be forced to fight.”

  ***

  The pilot hovered and waited for instructions while Grayson watched people on the ground run in all directions.

  “Did you see where that shot came from?” asked Governor Grayson.

  “No, sir,” answered the pilot. “Perhaps it came from someone in the crowd.”

  “I don’t think so, that would have been the wrong direction,” stated Blake, a good friend of Grayson and the head of his security detail. “I think it came from the building. Murphy,” said Blake, addressing the pilot through the headset, “find a place to set down and we’ll go in on foot to check it out.” He looked at Grayson for his approval.

  “Okay, but be careful,” said Grayson. “We still don’t know what we’re up against. From the people I saw in the crowd, and the way they scattered, I have to agree that they didn’t have anything to do with the shot. I don’t think they’re a threat. But, someone shot at us. Maybe Davis was right about needing help after all.”

  The pilot found a clearing about a hundred yards from the people and the compound and set down behind a grove of trees. “We’ll wait here for you, ready to take off,” Grayson told Blake. “If you get into trouble, come back here and we’ll figure something else out. If you can get inside, try to locate Governor Davis and escort him back here. Good luck and be careful.”

  Blake nodded as he slid the door open and jumped out, followed by his three men. All were well equipped with assault rifles, side arms, and body armor. Slowly and cautiously they began to work their way through the trees toward the front gate, anticipating further resistance.

  ***

  One of the men had re-opened and was watching from the freight doors. He gave Gant a signal.

  “They’re coming,” shouted Gant, grabbing Darby and moving him back from the door, keeping a watchful eye on him.

  Darby tried to break free, but was no match for Gant.

  “How many?” asked Ryder.

  “There appear to be four, and they’re armed.”

  “So, you going to make us hide from four men?” Darby asked bitterly.

  Gant looked at Ryder and John for any ideas. “They’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” he prompted.

  “This is your
area of expertise,” John stated. Ryder agreed with a nod. “It’s your call.”

  “Okay, everyone, go to the foyer and get out of sight. We outnumber them, but I don’t want them to know that. So, if they come inside, and I’m sure they’ll try, we can catch them in a crossfire.” The men scattered to the doorways of the row of offices and to the staircases to both the upper and lower floors. The assault team would be surrounded.

  ***

  Governor Davis, Damon, and Peck watched from the upstairs office window. They had seen the Raiders duck inside when the helicopter arrived and were now watching as four armed men came out of the trees and approached the gate.

  “Those are the chief governor’s men. They must not have seen the Raiders,” speculated Damon. “They’re walking straight into a trap. We need to warn them.”

  “The windows don’t open,” said Davis, “a security measure.”

  Damon grabbed a chair and began to swing it.

  “What are you going to do?” asked Davis, stepping in front of him and holding up his hands.

  Damon hesitated, holding the chair in the air. “If we don’t warn them,” blurted Damon, “they’ll be wiped out. And then who do you think is going to help us get out of here?”

  They exchanged eye contact for a brief moment before the governor nodded and stepped aside. “But I don’t think it’s going to break,” commented Davis, “it’s reinforced and especially thick.”

  Damon swung the chair with all his might. A loud ‘WHACK’ was the result with one leg of the chair breaking off. The window hadn’t suffered a crack or a scratch. He swung the chair again, and again, each time breaking off another piece of the chair. Damon dropped it to the floor. “It’s no use,” he said, taking a deep breath. He stepped to the window. One of the men was looking in their direction. “He must have heard the noise. He’s looking up here,” called out Damon. He began to wave his arms frantically. Peck came over to see for himself.