Escaping Home (10 page)

After we unloaded all the cabinets into one of the unused cabins and distributed the rest of the gear, Sarge tossed three pairs of flex cuffs to Mike. “Get 'em out of there and put these on 'em.”

Jeff turned off the hot wire and Mike began putting the cuffs on the boys. Chris still seemed indifferent but the boy who'd told him to shut up earlier was a different story. His voice shook as Mike zipped up the cuff. “What are you doing? Where are you taking us?”

The lack of response from Mike only unnerved him even further, and he began to cry. Once all the boys were cuffed up, we loaded them into the truck.

“What's he going to do with 'em?” Thad asked as we followed Sarge down the road.

I looked in the mirror at the boys, who Sarge had put in the cargo area of the truck. “I would imagine he's going to go have a talk with Chris's ole man.”

“This should be interesting.”

In short order, we were pulling up in front of Chase's house. He stepped out on the porch as we got out.

“How's your girl, Chase?”

Before Chase answered, she came bounding down the steps. “See fer yourself, there, Linus.”

“Looks fit as a fiddle.” Sarge looked at her. “How you feelin'?”

“A lot better! The medicine really helped.”

Thad and I were leading the boys up the driveway when Chase noticed his handcuffed son and his friends. His gaze had almost the same chilling effect as Sarge's. After a moment, without looking away from the boys, he asked, “What's all this about?”

“Well, Chase, my guys caught them inside one of the cabins with our gear,” Sarge answered.

He replied, “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir, when I talked to 'em they acted like they had as much right to be there as we did.” Sarge turned and pointed to Chris. “That one in particular has a pretty shitty attitude.”

One of the other boys quickly spoke up, “We told him not to, Mr. Fuller.”

Chase's eyes fell on the boy, who quickly looked down. “But you went with him anyway, didn't you?”

The boy nodded his head without looking up. “Yes, sir.”

“Linus, you can take them things off 'em now. They ain't going
anywhere
.”

Sarge tossed Thad a cutter for the cuffs, and he quickly removed them.

“Chris, carry your ass out back and find me a limb. Better be a good 'un, 'cause if it breaks, I'll get my own.”

Chase shouted at him, so loudly that it caused me to flinch, “I didn't hear you!”

Chris looked up at his father. “Yes, sir.”

Chase looked back at Sarge. “Kids these days. Sometimes you gotta beat respect into 'em.”

“Mr. Fuller, can we go?” the second asked.

“You two stay right there; your daddies'll whoop your asses when I'm done with you.”

“Chase, you ain't got to do this for us. Lord knows they deserve it, but you ain't gotta do it on my account,” Sarge said. A glimmer of hope crossed the two boys' faces.

Chase looked down at Sarge. “I ain't doing it for you. I know they been through all the houses around here already and I'm fine with that. Folks left 'em and they looked for things that may help us out”—Chase looked back to the two boys—“but going into a place where people live, people who helped us out no less, just ain't acceptable.”

Chris came around the house carrying a wax myrtle limb the size of his thumb. He was using his pocket knife to smooth out anything that was sticking up. Thad leaned over and whispered, “I think he's done this before.”

“Grab that rail,” Chase said, pointing at the porch rail with the stick. Chase tapped the one in the middle with the stick, causing him to jump. “Back up,” he ordered.

“You boys know better'n to do what ya did.” With that he started going down the line, giving each two licks with the stick, making three passes. To their credit, none of them cried out, though their knees did buckle one or twice. When he finished, Chase told them to apologize as they rubbed their asses.

Chris walked up to Sarge. “Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Sarge asked.

“Sorry for going into your cabin.”

The other two didn't need any prompting.

“Linus, I'm sorry for what they done. If you ever catch 'em messin' up again”—Chase looked at the boys—“an' there better not be a next time”—he looked back at Sarge—“feel free to blister their asses.”

Sarge looked at them. “I think they learned their lesson; don't reckon they'll try it again.” Sarge looked back at Chase. “I think you an' me are cut from the same cloth.”

“Looks that way. I appreciate you bringing 'em here and not taking it into your own hands.”

“Not a problem, we'll keep an eye out for 'em. You need anything?”

“Naw, we're all right, unless you can get the lights back on.”

“If I could, we wouldn't be having this conversation!”

The slightest hint of a smile cracked Chase's face. “I reckon not.”

“We'll be seeing ya,” Sarge said as he turned to leave. “Load up!” he called out to us.

T
ed was frustrated. While these girls knew the basics of using a handgun, they were horrible shots. Anything in front of the muzzle from the ground at their feet to the sun above was as likely to be hit as the target set up twenty yards away. While he had instructed countless people in marksmanship, it had always been soldiers who at least had the basics down.

“I like rifles better,” Taylor said as Ted pondered his options.

“Me too, but not big ones, not like that,” Lee Ann said, pointing to his M4.

Well, what in the hell do you want to use?
The thought rattled in his mind. “You ladies wait here; I'll be right back.”

Lee Ann looked at Mel. “Where's he going?”

“He's giving up,” Taylor said, causing Lee Ann to laugh.

“Remember when Dad tried to teach us to shoot?”

“Yeah, Mom always shot the ground.” Taylor laughed.

“Not always!” Mel said.

“No, just most of the time.”

“I can shoot, and I'm good at it too,” Little Bit said from her lawn chair. She was particularly upset she wasn't included in the class.

“I remember him saying once he didn't understand how we couldn't figure out the sights,” Lee Ann said, looking at the pistol on the lawn chair in front of her. “How'd he learn to shoot?”

“He was born with it,” Taylor said with a laugh.

“Poppee taught him. They hunted a lot when he was little; he spent all his time with a BB gun,” Mel said.

“I miss Grandma and Poppee. Do we know where they are?” Taylor asked.

“We don't, but knowing your Poppee, they're fine. You think Daddy can do anything, well, Poppee can do anything with nothing.”

“Yeah, Dad said he was in Vietnam, that he flew helicopters and was shot down a bunch,” Taylor said.

“He didn't fly them, he flew
in
them and shot the machine gun,” Mel corrected.

“Wow, really? I want a machine gun!” Taylor smiled.

“You couldn't shoot a machine gun,” Lee Ann said with a smirk.

Ted's return broke up the chatter. He climbed off the ATV and carried over an armload of black guns, laying them across the arms of the lawn chair.

“What's that?” Lee Ann asked.

Ted turned to them, a smile on his face. “Ladies, this is an H&K MP5 submachine gun.”

Wide eyed Taylor and Lee Ann looked at one another. “Really, a machine gun?”

“Yes, but right now we aren't going to use it like one. Pay attention.”

Ted went on to explain the operation of the weapon, what the various selector switch settings meant and how the weapon functioned. All the talk of the gas system went right over their heads, but they got the gist of it. He handed out cleared weapons and empty magazines to each of them and had them practice inserting the mag and charging the weapon. Numerous magazine drills were run as well as some basic emergency drills for clearing the weapon.

“Are we going to shoot these things or not?” Bobbie asked.

Ted smiled. “Yes, and you can go first.”

After spending a few minutes showing them how to load the mags, he had them load ten rounds into three apiece.

“Why don't we just fill it up?” Mel asked.

“Because I want you guys to practice changing them out as well.”

Once everyone had their mags ready, Bobbie stepped up to the firing line and shouldered her weapon. The girls covered their ears, Bobbie pulled the trigger and the weapon spit out the bullet. The girls all dropped their hands. “Is it broken?” Taylor asked as a confused Bobbie looked at the H&K.

“Did it come out?” Bobbie asked.

Ted laughed. “Oh yeah, it came out.” Holding up one of the weapons, he pointed to the suppressor screwed on the end. “This is a suppressor, it muffles the report, though as you just heard, there is still some there.”

“Cool, we get silencers!” Taylor cried out.

“No, they are not silencers. Those only exist in movies. Everyone, remove your hearing protection and listen to the next shot.” Ted turned to Bobbie. “If you please.”

Bobbie fired another round, and this time they all heard the report. “Wow, I really like this. It hardly kicks, and there's almost no sound.”

“Exactly. Now let's see if the rest of you guys can shoot these things.”

Ted spent the next hour and a half running the girls through drills. All of them were able to hit the target on every shot, not always in the black, but close to it. At the end of the lesson, he was satisfied that they could safely handle the weapons. In fact, they were instinctively making the weapons safe after each shot by keeping the muzzles pointed at the ground. He had only let them fire the weapons in semiauto up to this point, and he decided it would be time to let them fire it in the three-round burst mode.

After a brief lecture about the difference between those modes, he had them load nine rounds in a magazine and step up to the firing line one at a time. When they each had fired three bursts, all the weapons were laid aside.

“See the difference?” Ted asked.

“Yeah, I like that! It's cool!” Taylor said.

“I prefer to shoot one at a time,” Mel said.

“Me too,” Bobbie concurred.

“What about you?” Ted asked Lee Ann.

“It's okay, but I think I like it one at a time too, like Mom.”

“What about the other setting, the full auto one, are we going to do that?” Taylor asked.

Ted looked at her and picked up a magazine, stuffing rounds into it. Once the mag was loaded Ted picked up one of the weapons. Taylor stepped up and Ted put his hand up. “Nope, this is for demonstration purposes only.”

Dejected, she stepped back as Ted inserted the magazine and charged the weapon. “Going hot!” he shouted as he shouldered it. Gaining a sight picture, he squeezed the trigger, holding it down for all thirty rounds. Brass flew from the weapon as gas and lead spit out the muzzle. Out of rounds, he dropped the mag and made the weapon safe.

“What'd you see?”

“Lots of fun,” Taylor said.

“It looked like it was hard for you to control, harder anyway,” Bobbie said.

“Exactly, full auto is a waste of ammo most of the time. It has its place, though.” He held the weapon up. “These are personal defense weapons; they are not for offensive actions out here. They are meant for close-quarters action. You guys are getting these so you can defend yourselves. We just don't have the time to get you up to speed with a sidearm.” He paused and looked at Taylor. “Full auto is nothing to play with. If you're somewhere and three or four people are after you, then rock and roll. But even then you should use the burst setting, got it?”

They all nodded. Satisfied that they understood, Ted smiled and said, “Now for the
real
fun. . . . You get to clean your weapon.”

Taylor was the only one excited at the prospect of cleaning the weapons. She happily skipped off, leaving the others to chuckle at how Taylor had become the go-to gun girl of the family.

W
hen the shooting stopped and the siren blaring began to wind down, Jess and Mary stood up to survey the area. The bus that had started moving was gone. They watched as the security forces rounded the people up.

“Oh my Lord, look at the bodies!” Mary cried, her hands over her mouth.

“There's so many of them.” Jess pointed out toward the crowd. “Look, some of them are still moving.”

“Why aren't they helping them?! They're just standing there!”

Jess squinted her eyes and leaned forward. “Is that a kid?”

“Where?”

Jess pointed again. “There . . . between those two buses.”

Both women strained to see. “It looks like it,” Mary said, shaking her head.

As they were trying to get a better view, a small form sat up, long blonde hair in a mass of tangles.

“Oh my God, it is! It's a little girl, look at her!” Jess cried out.

“She's got blood all over her!”

Suddenly both of them were slammed to the ground. Before they could react, voices behind them screamed, “Get down! Stay down!”

Stunned, all they could do was lie there with their hands up by their heads.

“Please don't shoot us!” Mary shouted.

“What are you doing out here? Didn't you hear the siren?”

“We did, but we were already outside when the shooting started!” Mary shouted.

“On your damn feet!”

The two rolled over to see two of the security men standing over them. They lay there terrified. “Get
up
, I said!”

Mary and Jess slowly got to their feet, their hands still over their heads. One of the security agents reached out and snatched their ID badges off.

“Go back to your tent.”

“What about our badges?” Jess asked.

“Just take your ass back to your damn tent,” the man said, and when the women didn't move, he shouted, “Now!”

Mary and Jess quickly headed for the tent, Jess in the lead and Mary pushing her from behind.

“Go, go, go!” Mary urged.

Making it to the tent, they went to one of the tables and fell on the bench. Fred came running over to them, “What happened? Why are you crying?”

“They took our ID badges!” Mary cried.

“Who? Where?”

“We were outside when the shooting started, the bullets were going past us so we got on the ground. When the siren stopped, we got up and were about to come back here when the security guys showed up and knocked us down. They took our badges,” Jess said, covering her face when she finished.

“Oh my God . . . what were they shooting at?”

“People down at the reception area. I think they tried to steal a bus.”

“Was anyone hit?”

“A bunch of people. I think that's what they were mad about—that we saw it,” Mary said nervously.

Fred looked at their chests. “And they took your badges?”

“Yeah,” Mary said.

“What are you going to do? How do you get them back?”

“I don't know. I don't what they are going to do,” Jess said.

As they were talking Singer entered the tent shouting, “All right ladies, we are locked down until further notice. No one leaves the tent except to use the latrines, and that will be scheduled. There's a guard outside the door.” She abruptly left the tent.

Fred looked at Jess. “Well, at least she didn't catch you without the badge.”

“Yeah, for now . . .” Mary said with a crinkled brow.

“Well, we're stuck here now! You guys want to play cards?” Fred asked, trying to lighten up some of the tension.

Jess looked over and let out a long sigh. “Sorry, I'm not really in a card-playing mood right now.”

“Come on. What else are you going to do around here?” Fred asked, gesturing around the tent.

Jess looked around. “I guess you're right. What are we playing?”

“Hearts and spades? I'll get the cards,” Fred said as she got up from the table.

When Fred was on the hunt for the cards, Mary leaned over. “Jess, I'm worried. Why'd they take our badges? What are they going to do to us?”

“I don't know, but try not to let it worry you. We were following the rules to get on the ground. We couldn't help about what we saw. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?”

“The worst is what I'm worried about.”

Fred returned to the table and the three of them spent the next two hours playing hearts and spades, with the occasional hand of blackjack thrown in for variety. They were in the middle of a game of spades when the tent door opened and Singer stepped in. “Line up, ladies. Bathroom break.”

They laid their cards down and headed for the door with the rest of their tent mates. Singer stood in the doorway as the women exited. Jess was following Fred out the door when Singer put her hand into Jess's chest.

“Forgetting something?”

Jess looked at her, confused. “No.”

“Your badge—go get it.”

“I don't have it.”

Singer crossed her arms. “What do you mean you don't have it?”

Looking at the floor, Jess mumbled that security had it.

“I'm sorry, I don't speak mealy mouth. Look at me when you're talking to me. What'd you say?”

Looking up, Jess said, “Security took it from me earlier.”

Singer rocked back on her heels. “Oh really? And why'd they do that?”

“I don't know, they just did.”

“And let me guess, your friend doesn't have hers either,” Singer said, looking at Mary.

Mary looked at the floor. “No, ma'am.”

Singer glared at her. “At least
you
know how to talk to your superiors.” She looked back to Jess with a sneer. “Both of you, come with me,” she said as she turned to leave.

Jess and Mary looked at each other, then Mary asked, “Where are we going?”

Singer turned back to her. “Are you going to give me trouble? We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“We need to use the bathroom,” Jess said.

“Oh, for cryin' out loud. Fine, make it quick.”

Jess and Mary quickly headed toward the latrines, saying nothing. As soon as they were inside, Mary broke down and began crying. The other women looked over, curious. Fred approached and asked what was going on.

“We don't know, we have to go with Singer. I don't know where they're taking us,” Jess said.

“What are they going to do to us?” Mary asked through her sobs, wiping tears from her face.

“You guys haven't done anything wrong. It's not your fault they were shooting people,” Fred said.

“Let's hurry up before she comes in here,” Jess said as she went into a stall.

Singer was impatiently waiting at the tent, tapping her foot and gesturing for them to follow her. She wound her way through the camp to areas that neither Jess nor Mary had been to before. The camp was a warren of tents and small buildings that looked like shipping containers, only with doors and windows. The lanes between all these structures were simple sand paths that were carefully maintained. The sound and exhaust of large diesel generators filled the air the farther they went.

Singer turned off the path into a large building that had a sign reading
SECURITY
hanging over the door. Jess and Mary followed her through the door, but Singer stopped them and said, “Wait here and don't move.”

“Look at all these computers,” Jess whispered.

Mary was too anxious to look, staring at the floor.

“How do they have all these? Look at that—they have cameras up somewhere.” Jess was looking at a station with three thirty-two-inch monitors. A technician sat behind them controlling the cameras. The views on the screen rotated through different shots slowly, the technician occasionally zooming in for a closer look.

After what seemed liked forever, Singer reappeared and led them to a small office, where a haggard-looking man in a black uniform sat behind a dusty desk. Jess saw their badges lying in front of him.

“These are the two,” Singer said, crossing her arms over her chest.

The man looked at them and examined the badges.

“Why are you two here?”

Jess was getting tired of the games. Her patience had been wearing thin by waiting, and by the implied accusations. “I have no idea. Why don't you tell me?” Mary shot Jess a look.

Singer's eyes narrowed. “Who do you think you're talking to?”

“Again, I have no idea. I wasn't introduced.” She felt her anger rise.

Singer looked at the man behind the desk. “I told you they were trouble.”

Jess's face contorted into a sneer. “Trouble? What the hell have we done? We were coming back from the bathroom when the shooting started. We got on the ground when the bullets started passing over our heads!” Jess was starting to tremble from anger. Mary was trying her best to hide behind her.

“And how do you know
bullets
were passing over your head?” Singer asked.

“Because I have been shot at before! I know what it sounds like!”

The man behind the desk interrupted them. “Who took your badges?”

“When the siren stopped, we stood up and two of your goons knocked us down without saying anything. They took them,” Jess answered defiantly.

“They were in a restricted area,” Singer said.

“What?! We were coming back from the bathroom. Is the fucking bathroom off-limits?”

Singer moved toward Jess. “You need to watch your damn mouth!”

Jess couldn't contain herself. “Fuck you, bitch!”

Singer's eyes went wide and she lunged for Jess, grabbing her by the throat. Jess knocked her hat off and grabbed two hands full of hair as they went to the floor. Mary screamed and ran into the corner. The man behind the desk was quickly on his feet and grabbed both women.

“Knock this shit off!” He struggled for a few seconds to get them separated, and when he finally did Jess stood glaring at Singer. Singer's red hair hung in strands over her face, sticking out all over. With a huff, she blew the hair out of her eyes.

“I told you these two would stir shit up,” Singer said, pointing an accusing finger at Jess.

The man looked at her. “You just need to shut the fuck up, Singer! What have they done? That one is on the damn floor”—he paused and pointed at Singer—“and you attacked her!”

“You heard what she called me!”

“It's called freedom of speech; look it up,” Jess said as she rubbed her neck.

“You don't have any rights,” Singer said, trying unsuccessfully to smooth out her hair.

“Why, are we prisoners? I thought this was a humanitarian camp. You people treat us like convicts! Hell, even convicts have rights.”

“You're not prisoners. You're here for your safety,” the man said.

Jess looked at him. “So I can leave the camp, then?”

“No, you can't. You're under our control,” Singer said.

“That's enough, Singer,” the man said.

Singer glanced over at him, then back to Jess. Jess gave her a snarky smile.

“No, you can't leave. We're under martial law and you are not free to leave,” the man said in a calm tone, trying to bring the level down. “There is a lot of bad stuff going on out there right now. You're much safer here.”

“So how long do we have to stay here? What's going to happen next?” This was the first time that Jess had even been able to ask someone questions, and this man was at least willing to talk. Jess was hungry for information.

“There has been a setback in our relocation efforts. You will soon be sent to one of the pacified zones, assigned housing and given a job.”

“Fuck that, I don't want to be assigned housing or
given
a job. I want to go take care of myself.”

“You came here by choice. Now that you're here you, gotta go along with the program,” the man said evenly.

“We can make things hard on you if you don't cooperate,” Singer snapped.

Jess looked at her. “Bring it on, bitch!”

“She needs to go into detention!” Singer barked.

“I've already told you two to knock it off. I don't want to hear any more of this crap.” The man pointed at Jess. “You two go back to your tent.” He tossed their badges to her as he said it.

“I'll see you in a little while,” Singer said, nodding her head.

Jess looked at her, then at the man. “You send her back over there and we're going to have issues.”

“You don't have a choice in the matter!” Singer barked.

“Go, get out of here.” The man pointed at the door.

Jess and Mary left the office. Singer went to follow them out when the man said, “You wait here.”

Singer stopped. Jess looked over her shoulder and smiled at her, giving her the finger as the door shut. Several people in the large office area looked at them as they passed through. Jess handed Mary her badge and clipped hers to her coat as they exited the building.

“You okay?” Jess asked Mary as they started down the path.

Mary looked at her. “I'm fine, but girl, you're crazy! I thought they were going to kill you!”

“That bitch just wishes she could.” Jess held out her hand and pulled a long strand of red hair out from between her fingers, holding it up so Mary could see it before letting it drift off on the breeze. “I should have pulled out more.”

Mary laughed and shook her head. “You are nuts.”

Jess wrapped an arm around Mary's shoulders, and Mary laid her head over as they walked back to the tent. When they came through the door, Fred jumped up and ran to meet them.

“What happened?” She looked at their badges. “You got 'em back?!”

Mary gestured over at Jess and smiled. “Yeah, Miss Crazy here got them back.”

Fred smiled. “I should've figured that you were a loose cannon.” She looked around. “Where's Singer?”