Jake shook his head. “I wish people would stop treating me like a kid.”
“You’ll understand one day, Jake. I promise. Now, let’s get you back to the Tear Drop, and then I’ve got some BIG dinner plans for you guys. You’ll dine like kings on some
great
Southern cuisine tonight, I promise.”
******
The flight home was an uncomfortable one to say the least. Billy, Derek, and Hernandez hadn’t said, more than a few words the entire rest of the trip. Making things even more uncomfortable was that Mr. Orwell sat quietly reading a paperback in the row across from Jake.
A deal had been struck for him to tutor Jake and the other recruits. Billy had agreed to set him, his wife, and their six sons up in a house in San Angelo along with a generous yearly salary for the remainder of the training program. He hadn’t been apprised to all of the details surrounding why he was being asked to teach a bunch of teenagers involved in some top-secret covert military training and to everyone’s complete surprise, he hadn’t asked. The rest of his family was supposed to follow with all of their possessions in the next few days.
“So Mr. Orwell,” Secretary Hernandez said, trying to make some polite small talk, “I understand you have a Masters in history.”
“That is correct sir,” Mr. Orwell laid the book down in his lap. “As well as mathematics, economics, and English literature.”
Derek whistled through his teeth. “Quite a resume. How did you find time to get that many degrees?”
“I have always had a passion for learning, even when I was a young boy.
Especially
history. So I make the time whenever I can to take some courses, learn something that I did not know before.”
“History, huh? I’ve always been interested in Greek mythology myself. I know it’s not exactly history per se, but I’ve always found it fascinating. Is there any particular time of interest that you enjoy exploring?” Derek asked.
“The Roman Empire has always drawn me in.” Mr. Orwell answered looking directly at Jake. “Most notably the reign of Emperor Tiberius Julius Caesar Augustus.”
He knows . . .
Jake thought, his face going pale.
He knows about the Maker in Riker’s dungeon. But how? Did he come across him like I did? Did he know the whole time? How could he possibly know?
Mr. Orwell smiled at him from the corner of his mouth then returned to his novel. An hour later he rose to use the restroom. Jake couldn’t hold it in any longer, he had to know. He looked back making sure the door was closed. “Okay guys, you can be as mad as you want, but I’ve just got to ask.
What
happened in that room?”
Billy looked over at Hernandez then looked back out the window. “Hair . . . there was so much hair.” was all he said. But it was enough.
Jake put two and two together, his eyes growing large. He hadn’t imagined the creatures in the moonlight. It all made sense now. Nathan, the big hairy creature carrying him that night the vampires attacked Riker’s.
I knew it!
He thought with a grin. “Wow.” he said aloud.
“Yeah. Wow.” Derek repeated. “I thought I’d seen it all. Boy was I wrong.”
“What are they?” Jake asked no one in particular.
“I don’t know,” Billy said shaking his head, “but if what they told us is true, they can sure kill the hell out some vampires.”
Mr. Orwell came back from the bathroom and took his seat ending the rest of Jake’s questions save one. Jake waited until Billy, Hernandez, even Derek were napping before asking. He looked over at his teacher, “Mr. Orwell,” he whispered softly. “Is he still alive?”
Mr. Orwell didn’t even look up from his book or pretend he didn’t know what Jake was talking about. “Yes. He is still imprisoned but he is still alive. If you can call that miserable existence
living
.”
It was enough so Jake didn’t ask him to elaborate. Tiberius was still alive. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Be careful young man,” Mr. Orwell said quietly. “Whatever your feelings about that creature, always remember that a leopard cannot change its spots.”
Chapter 6
Jake
The Williams Ranch
May 17, 1999, 8:30pm
After the trip to Georgia Jake’s training performance returned to the standard it had been before he got sick. He finished the
The Playground
a full three minutes faster than Buck’s best time, which strangely didn’t make him nearly as happy as it would have before Buck’s intervention, during what the other recruits had started calling the
Ortega Incident.
Mr. Orwell had taken to the position as their tutor like a duck to water. His lessons took place during the time that used to be occupied by Hunters. It had become increasingly hard to find Hunters willing to teach lessons with so many profitable hunts becoming available, so that three hour time slot was filled with world history, math, science, and various other courses.
Jake had a thousand questions he wanted to ask Mr. Orwell about Tiberius and exactly how much he knew, but the elderly gentleman refused to answer any more. “You’ve got your secrets,” he said motioning around the Williams Ranch. “I’ve got mine.”
“That’s not fair,” Jake had responded. “We both know you know more about this place than you’re letting on.”
Mr. Orwell had smiled politely and walked away from the conversation. Practically the same thing had happened every time Jake had broached the subject. Eventually he gave up.
A full week before the end of their first break, Jake and the other guys made plans for something big. Each knew the odds of it succeeding were slim, but they had to try.
One night after their lesson with Mr. Orwell was over and they were finishing up their evening meal, Jake, Buck, Chris, and Donnie sat around the large table in the mess hall making their plans. “So . . . who’s going to do it?” Chris asked.
“Not me.” Buck answered, shaking his head. “Ortega is still pissed at me for coming to Jake’s rescue.”
“
Rescue?
I wouldn’t exactly call it a
rescue.
Intervention maybe, definitely not a rescue,” Jake replied. “Ortega was going down for the count when you came in.”
“Yeah and I’m the King of Siam.” Buck snickered. “If I hadn’t gotten there when I did that big Mexican would have kicked your ass all over Billy’s office.”
“I cannot believe I missed that!” Donnie exclaimed for the hundredth time. “Dammit Buck! Why didn’t you come get me?!”
“It was brutal man.” Buck laughed. “Jake was all like:
No Drill Sergeant Ortega! Please don’t hurt me
! And Ortega was like:
‘You’re dead pandejo! I’m going to rip your gringo head off!’”
Jake grabbed a roll from the center of the table and tossed it at Buck’s head. “That’s not how it happened.” He said shaking his head.
Just months before Jake had hated Buck to his very core. Now he found himself not minding the young Turner’s sarcasm, wit, and general disregard for the feelings of his teammates. Once he’d gotten past all of that, he’d learned to accept Buck for who and what he was. An asshole. But an asshole that had saved him from one very pissed off Drill Sergeant, though Jake would never openly admit it.
“Seriously! How did I miss that?!” Donnie exclaimed again. “Wait, Buck, why were you in the ranch house to begin with?”
“Uh . . . no reason,” Buck answered looking away.
“Buck?” Donnie asked giving him a knowing look.
“Yeah that’s right!” Jake exclaimed. “I never thought of it. What were you doing in there?”
“Alright! Alright!” he lowered his voice. “I was sneaking food from the pantry.”
“You little bastard,” Donnie said grabbing up another roll and lobbing it Buck.
“Stop throwing rolls at me!” Buck yelled out. “Geez, I was hungry! Don’t get me wrong, I like Chef’s food just fine, but he doesn’t have nearly the amount of goodies Billy and Sandra have stashed away.”
“Unbelievable.” Jake shook his head. “I go in to make a phone call to possibly help the Coalition, you go in to sneak some cupcakes and
I’m
the one to catch an ass beating. Unfreakingbelievable.”
“Ah ha! So you admit you were getting pounded!” Buck exclaimed.
“Nope.” Jake shook his head. “It didn’t happen. No way, no how.”
“Guys!” Chris said banging his hand on the table. “We don’t have time for this. We have to find out by tomorrow morning if we’re going to be able to go.”
Diana came by and leaned over Jake shoulders to grab the last roll off the table. He couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of her breasts pressed up against his shoulders.
“Are you guys talking about that stupid movie again?” she said leaning back up and nibbling on the roll.
“Stupid movie?!” Chris exclaimed louder than Jake had ever heard him speak before. “
Star Wars Episode I
is NOT a stupid movie!”
“Diana, you just don’t get it,” Donnie said. “George Lucas is a genius!”
“Word,” Buck agreed. “The man gave us Han Solo, Darth Vader, Indiana Jones! For crying out loud he gave us lightsabers!”
“Word?” Jake said giving him a funny look. “Seriously Buck? Word?”
“Who the heck is Hand Sulu?” Diana said drawing angry stares from all four of them.
“You . . . you . . . how? Han . . . no,” Chris was so shocked he couldn’t even put a complete sentence together.
“Calm down big guy.” Jake put a hand on his shoulder. “Diana, Han Solo is the biggest badass in the history of movies.”
“Yeah the dude is the epitome of cool!” Buck agreed.
“Whatever, nerds.” She ruffled Jake’s hair then walked away rolling her eyes.
“I’m gonna to kill her,” Chris said when she was out of earshot. “
Hand Sulu?
Really?
Hand freaking Sulu!?
” She just slapped George Lucas right in the face. “I’m not kidding. She’s dead.”
“Ooookay,” Jake said uncertainly. “Chris is really starting to freak me out.”
Donnie and Buck laughed.
Chef stepped up to the table and placed a large plate of brownies in the middle of the table, then placed a finger up to his lips making a ‘shhh’ motion.
“Hey thanks Chef!” Buck yelled out grabbing a brownie in each hand.
Chef signed something with his hands.
“What’s that Chef?” Donnie asked, speaking for everyone. None of them could read sign. Chef rolled his eyes then produced a pad/paper and pencil from his pocket. He scribbled something down then set it on the table.
What time are you guys going?
“If Castle approves, we’re going to the midnight showing but we’ll have to get there extremely early to get tickets. Why? Did you want to come with us?”
Chef’s eyes lit up with excitement and he scribbled again, then slapped it down on the table.
YES!!
“Kick ass!” Buck exclaimed through a mouthful of brownie. “There’s our ride!”
“Hey what about me?” Donnie said picking at one of the brownies. “We could take my truck.”
“Donnie, you think the Sergeant Major is just going to let a bunch of fifteen year olds and a sixteen year old go see a midnight showing of
Star Wars
by themselves?” Jake asked. “It’s either Chef, or Ortega. Take your pick.”
“No it’s not that, Chef can come regardless. I just thought it would be nice to take my baby out on the town for a night.”
“Please stop calling your truck your
baby
.” Jake laughed. “It’s getting to be a little disturbing.”
“Hey it’s not my fault. Grandma and Grandpa got it for my birthday but I only get to drive it like once a week
if
I’m lucky.”
“It will just be an easier sell,” Jake said.
“Alright fine.” Donnie sulked. “Is that cool with you, Chef? Can we hitch a ride with you?”
Chef nodded vigorously.
“Okay then.” Chris stood up. “Now we’re back to our original dilemma. Who’s going to ask?”
“I’ll do it,” Jake said standing up and stretching. “But I’m not asking Ortega. I’m going straight to Castle.” He pushed his chair in then squeezed Buck’s shoulders hard causing him to wince. “Wish me luck, and to be honest saying a little prayer wouldn’t hurt either.” He snatched up his axe and headed for the door.
Behind him Chris instantly steepled his fingers and closed his eyes.
Jake slowly walked across the dry dusty earth of the Williams property trying to come up with just the right words to make this work.
Sarge my man! What’s going on?! You mind if the boys and I go catch a Star Wars movie tomorrow night? ‘Why Jake Bishop! The son I never had! Of course! Go right ahead. Just bring me back some popcorn!’
He sighed.
If only it could be that easy.
The sun was setting low in the sky when Jake stepped up to the instructors’ cabin. A large group of storm clouds hung low in the north. Jake thought back to the last time he had been there, back when Lt. Perry told him he was about to be kicked out of the program. This time he used left hand to knock instead of the polished steel head of his axe.
While he waited, he ran his fingers over the solid handle made of Tennessee Hickory and thought how strange it was that he had so easily adapted to carrying it at all times. It had become an extension of his right hand. A tool he would feel odd without. With a smile, he tossed the axe high into the air and caught it with his other hand, just as Sergeant Major Castle had done their first day of training.
Castle opened the door and ushered him in with a nod. “Shouldn’t you be getting chow, Bishop?”
“Yes Sergeant Major,” Jake answered stepping inside and looking around at all of the well kept bunks around the room. “We just finished up.”
“So?” Castle asked sitting down at a small desk covered with neatly stacked files and an outdated Hewlett Packer computer. “What can I do for you?”
Jake stood at attention. “Thank you for taking the time to see me, Sergeant Major.”