Erik Handy (4 page)

He couldn’t wait to hear her cries when he killed their child in front of her. To break that bond between mother and child, let alone husband and wife. The pain that sprang from shattered trust and abject futility -- Rosalo felt an erection coming on.

But then what would he do after he sacrificed his child and then his wife? How would he sustain the rush? His village was down to twenty or thirty, all given over to his dominance simply so they could take their drugs and do
things
far from civilized eyes. It was only a matter of time before the village faded like his power and euphoria. Then, no amount of lesson he'd give or threats could save it. He would be empty then. Impotent. 

Maybe he'd keep Marie alive longer than he planned.

Chapter 15

A small army amassed in front of the constable's office. That's what it seemed to the townspeople who gathered around the nine uniformed soldiers. The rifles the soldiers carried slung over their shoulders were as serious as their impassive looks of stone. This impressed the townsfolk to no end.

Apart from the soldiers was Constable Jacoby. The commander of the soldiers, Captain Fleur, was reading the constable the riot act.

From Nolan's position across the street, he couldn't make out what Fleur was saying. Obviously something Jacoby didn't want to hear. The constable stood, almost embarrassed, definitely irked that Nolan went over his head over this trivial matter.

Jacoby took the abuse without a word. After the grocer's death, Jacoby had no choice but to radio his supervisor to call for reinforcements. The loss of the grocer meant there was now a snag in the town's scheme of things. The grocer's actual death or that of his wife, or even the ordeal with the missing woman, didn't mean as much as the lack of a proper storekeeper. People had to eat. Jacoby thought the priest probably believed the constable called for help for humanitarian reasons. Jacoby stifled a chuckle. Fleur laid into him some more. For Fleur, this mess made him and his superiors look bad. And if certain people looked bad, someone low on the chain had to clean up the mess as punishment. Amid this nonsense, no official cared about Marie or what went on outside of city life. Jacoby was right and he wanted to push Nolan's face in the truth.

***

Nolan felt like curling up far from this place and forgetting his situation and station. Nothing was worth the gut-wrenching sense of hopelessness which ailed him. He sought solace in prayer, praying for safety before praying for the children he made parentless, praying for relief from the guilt he felt. The solace he sought eluded him. He needed absolution, but he didn't want to be here in this Third- World wreck of a country to seek it.

Fleur finished with Jacoby and walked over to the line of nine soldiers. He sternly gave them their orders before heading to Nolan.

Fleur lightened his tone with the priest. However, his mere presence was enough to straighten Nolan to attention. "My apologies, Father," the captain began. He cast an accusatory glance at Jacoby. "This matter will now be resolved. We checked your church and the woman is no longer there. We can assume these men have her as well as her baby. "

Nolan's stomach did a cartwheel. If he felt this pang of guilt, then perhaps atonement was indeed possible.

"I must say that the chances of us rescuing her and the child are slim," Fleur continued. "The road into the jungle is little more than a bike path. In addition, there is a lot of jungle and mountain up there."

Ready to argue, Nolan thought Fleur was going to shirk his responsibility. Fleur raised his hand in defense.

"But we will try," Fleur continued. "Now, remain here with the storekeeper's son and daughter --"

"I want to go with you."

Fleur shook his head. "Out of the question. That jungle is no place for a priest, let alone a sane human being."

Chapter 16

Two jeeps crawled up the narrow, dusty road. Nothing but jungle ran on both sides.

The front jeep carried five soldiers. The rear, four plus Jacoby and Fleur in the back seat.

The ride jostled the men back and forth, side to side, up and down.

Jacoby was perturbed that he had to come along on this mission. He wanted to be back at his office or even at the bar. Just not here. This was futile. Pointless. The woman and baby were gone, probably dead. Who knew? Who cared? That damn American. Nolan. It was his fault.

Jacoby thought Fleur would command the jeeps to enter the jungle, stop for a few hours, then return to town emptyhanded, an elaborate shoe for the priest. But, no. Fleur demanded that Jacoby join then on this operation that was actually taking place. Jacoby couldn't believe Fleur, someone cut from the same cloth as him, would follow through on this.

No. Jacoby couldn't entirely blame the priest. Even in the back of his mind, he knew he was wrong in not assisting the priest immediately simply to quell any future incidents. He liked his town and position. He could do what he wanted without any public backlash.

Whatever, Jacoby thought. Soon this fool's errand would be over and he'd be back in town, ready for a game of backgammon and a beer. The town would have a new grocer and no one would know anything amiss had recently occurred.

The distracted constable noticed movement alongside the jeeps.

A man.

Maybe more than one. Jacoby couldn't tell.

Running through the jungle.

Dodging trees.

Trying to stay hidden.

Parallel to the road.

Jacoby tensed up in his seat. He looked around and saw that no one else in his jeep noticed the movement among the trees.

Chapter 17

The front jeep.

The soldier in the rear seat on the far left, Fritz, was daydreaming about being home watching soccer on television with his two sons. And holding his wife, nuzzling her soft neck. Making her moan softly. Home.

His head jerked to the left, smacking his neighbor's shoulder. The other soldier, Stansley, who had been dozing, checked on him.

He regretted doing so.

The daydreamer's left eye was a mess of running red.

And that was the least shocking feature of what was once his face.

Fritz would daydream no more and if Stansley got out of this alive, he would never want to dream again.

***

From Jacoby and Fleur's point of view, Stansley yelled something to the others in his jeep before vomiting out his side of the vehicle.

Jacoby and his jeepmates looked on as both jeeps stopped.

From both sides of the flanking jungle came a barrage of rocks the size of tennis balls. The rocks slammed into the exposed soldiers and jeeps, bruising and banging all they hit.

The men filed out of their vehicles, unslinging their rifles. They wasted no time firing into the trees.

The rocks immediately quit flying.

No one moved. Jacoby was crouched low in his seat while everyone else were on the road. He slowly left the safety of the jeep, hand resting on his pistol. He held his breath as he and the men watched and listened.

Other than the initial strike, none of the rocks landed any serious blows. The jeeps' hoods were dented, but that was the extent of the damage.

Everyone on the narrow path looked at each other. Were they just attacked by rocks? It was so strange to them that even though they saw the rocks that remained on the hoods, they had difficulty believing the last fifteen seconds actually happened.

Fleur turned toward his comrades. "All right," he addressed his men. "Let's get back --"

SLAM.

A large rock meteored into the captain's face, silencing the authority figure and ensuring a closed casket funeral. The other soldiers, Jacoby included, immediately fired their weapons in the direction of the deadly projectile.

A soldier raced to the fallen captain. He looked over at Jacoby. "He's dead."

That meant Jacoby was now in charge. He straightened up. There was only one course of action to take now, a course of action he was more than comfortable in taking.

"Put him in the jeep," Jacoby ordered. "We're going home."

A man erupted from the surrounding bush. The man was disheveled, his appearance marred by life in this part of the jungle -- a life free of nutrition and morals. However, this was no fashion show. His face was set in enraged determination, almost primal in intensity.

His intent was soon clear.

His first target was the kneeling officer by Fleur. The man clawed the soldier's throat out to the awe of the armed force.

Before anyone could react, another dozen men spilled out from the trees with the same murderous intent.

The soldiers were caught so off-guard that they could only bring up their rifles in defense, swinging wildly. One managed to shoot his bare-handed assailant point blank, literally blowing the strange attacker away.

Another attacker swung a long, jagged tree branch at a soldier, Stansley, knocking teeth, blood, and spit from the man's mouth, breaking his neck. As if that wasn't enough, the attacker jammed the end of his weapon into the soldier's stomach. The skewered soldier fell back onto a jeep's hood.

The dying continued.

Chapter 18

Jacoby stood apart from the carnage. He was taken aback by how much chaos the nine soldiers minus the dead and the indeterminable number of savage natives were creating. The skirmish of branches and stones against guns was surreal on this poor excuse of a road. The sun was going down, but the blood shone in brilliant crimson.

Jacoby's men were putting up a decent fight, but it seemed the attackers were invincible, at least initially. Those not mortally wounded, including those shot, kept coming. However, all men are mortal and even the attackers started to fall one-by-one.

The soldiers still had to fight hard if they wanted to get out alive. Fight hard they did, albeit without thinking. Pure instinct kept those standing alive. But the jungle attackers were too savage.

Jacoby considered the attackers to be any one of a number of groups that lived, even thrived, out here. They were dressed in modern clothes, but they still could have been natives dressed in clothes previously owned and forcibly taken. Jacoby didn't think that was so. Most of the people in the jungle rarely engaged the outside world for fear of reprisals.

No. These attackers were trying to stop the soldiers from completing their mission. That meant the soldiers were close to the woman and child. Too close for Jacoby's liking.

Keep moving, he told himself as he jogged by a lone soldier who was being double-teamed and torn apart.

***

Several years ago, a group of Australian tourists -- two women and one man, all in their twenties -- ventured into Jacoby's town looking to score some cheap marijuana. The locals shunned the trio, but not Jacoby. After scaring the shit out of them with talk of his country's prison system, the constable let them goo -- for a fee. He even told the group the name and location of a nearby dealer, Crispin something or other.

Jacoby never saw the trio again.

Nor did anyone else.

One of the missing's mother -- an annoying woman not unlike Nolan -- visited Jacoby with the intention of having him scour the jungle and mountains for any clues about the whereabouts of her innocent little girl.

Jacoby's help extended to telling the mother that he had arrested the young woman and her friends for purchasing illegal drugs and held them for a day, but set them free, ordering them to leave the town not to return.

When the mother didn't believe this, Jacoby immediately produced the necessary paperwork he had fabricated beforehand that supported his story.

The stunt worked and suspicion avoided the constable and his little niche in the world.

***

Jacoby headed to a jeep. One of his fellow soldiers ran into him. The man's face was ripped open on the right side from his eye down.

"Help," the soldier croaked.

The constable pushed the injured man away as if the man's death was contagious.

An attacker threw a handful of deadly rocks at the constable as if in response.

Barely missed by the throw, Jacoby drew his pistol and fired once at the attacker, killing him.

Jacoby had no time to dwell on what he just did. It didn't matter anyway. He was alive and the other man was not.

He made it to the jeep where escape awaited. Escape and life.

Amid the noise of the engine and scattered gunshots, he could still hear the diminishing screams from men on both sides of the brutal conflict.

Jacoby u-turned, plowing over soft shrubbery.

"Wait!"

Jacoby didn't dare stop.

"Wait for us!"

The final two surviving soldiers tried to make for the fleeing jeep, but the constable pulled away from them, leaving them to an awful end.

Chapter 19