Escaping Home (15 page)

“They're forcing people go to the camps now? I thought it was a choice.”

José smiled. “You
really
think you had a choice?”

Fred looked at him. “What do you mean? No one made me come; I chose to.”

“Why'd you come?”

“It wasn't safe. There was no food, no supplies . . .”

“Raiders came through, didn't they?”

“Yeah, couple of times, why?”

“You think those raiders showed up by coincidence?”

“Shut up, José,” Aric said with an edge in his voice.

“What, she'd figure it out on her own anyway, eventually.”

“You mean the government sent them?”

“It's not what you think. We didn't
directly
send them.”

The realization of what they were saying slowly came to her. “But you didn't
stop
them.”

“Exactly,” José said.

“So they
want
everyone to come to the camps.”

“They want everyone to come
through
them, not stay in them.”

Fred shuddered and leaned back in her seat, trying to act calm. Meanwhile, though, her mind was racing. What was she going to be a part of in this mission?

J
eff, watch those guys. I'm going to get to get them out of here,” I yelled above the din.

Jeff nodded without looking over and switched to his AK, laying slow and steady fire at the three guys. I grabbed Taylor's hand. “Come on, guys, follow me.” I led them down the side of the house toward the front yard. Rounding the corner I came face-to-face with Mark. I pushed the girls back behind the house and stepped away from the corner.

“What the fuck, Mark? What are you doing?” I shouted.

We both stood there with our weapons at low ready, looking directly at each other. He looked off in the direction of all the racket Sarge was making. “Who the hell is that?”

“The One Hundred and First Airborne. What the hell's going on? Why are you here, again?”

“I told you we'd be back. We've come to seize your weapons and bring you in.”

“Yeah, how's that working out for you?”

“We aren't going away. There's more of us than there are of you, so call 'em off.”

I was stupefied. “Why? What in the hell have we done? Why can't we just be left the fuck hell alone?”

“Drop the bullshit, Morgan; you're not innocent. We found the militia group you guys hung your signs around. Don't pretend that wasn't you.”

“I can honestly say I didn't kill any of them, even though you assholes sent them here and one of them
shot my daughter
.”

Mark's eye bugged out of his head and he started to scream, “You think this is a fucking game! You are being ordered to surrender your weapons! We aren't asking, now drop that fucking rifle and get on your fucking knees! Last chance, or I swear to God I'm going to shoot your ass!”

I felt the warm rage rise up my neck, ears and forehead. “‘We' who? You're on the wrong end of this fight, you dickheads might be able to push everyone else around, the starving cold masses, but not us.” I tightened the grip on my rifle. “And I do mean ‘us'; there's more of me than there are of you. Haven't you noticed you're all alone? The guys you had come up from the back are toast.”

In an instant, I saw his weapon move. I tried to bring mine up, but reaction is always slower than action. The dirt exploded in front of me as his first round went off, I didn't hear it, though, because of the thunderous explosion beside my head.

Mark's weapon dropped. He staggered toward me then collapsed. Jeff stepped forward, the big Mosin in his hands. We stood there looking at Mark's lifeless body. Jeff cycled the bolt on the rifle and in a detached tone said, “The guys out back are gone,” then began to strip the gear off of Mark's body.

The girls came around the house. I could hear them crying, though everything was muffled from the gunfire.

“Is he dead?” Mel asked.

“Yeah, he's dead.”

“I'm sorry, Dad. I was so scared. We should have helped you, but I was too scared,” Taylor said from behind. She was crying, wiping tears from her red eyes. “It's okay,” I said, wrapping my arms around her. “I'm glad you didn't.” Lee Ann came over and we included her in the hug, and then Mel too.

“Where's Little Bit?” I asked, looking around.

The hug broke up and I stepped around the corner of the house. I found her kneeling with her back on the house and her Cricket in her lap, crying.

I knelt down in front of her. “Are you okay?”

She looked up, small muddy streaks on her face from her tears. “I peed my pants. I'm sorry, Daddy.”

The fear she must have felt crushed me. “Oh, baby girl, it's okay,” I said, rubbing her head.

“I'm sorry. I was scared. It was an accident.”

“Don't worry about it. It's no big deal. Come here,” I said, lifting her up.

She wrapped her arms around me, pressing her face into my neck. I could feel her wet tears on my skin. I carried her toward the door, passing the older girls. The fear was still on their faces and all I wanted to do was hug them.

Holding Little Bit as close as I could, I was aware of the vest I was wearing and all of its contents. It was between us, and I felt like it was keeping us apart. I wanted to tear it off, be closer to my child, but this wasn't done yet and as much as I hated it, I would probably need its disturbing contents.

“Morg, I'm going to see if they need any help,” Jeff said as he started for the gate.

I took Little Bit her to her room and handed her dry clothes. “Go ahead and change. It's okay, really. Don't worry about it.”

She nodded and knelt down again and I hugged her, murmuring, “I'm sorry you were so scared, but you're all right now.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too,” I said as I shut her door. I asked her sisters to go sit with her once she changed her clothes, and together Mel and I walked out to Mark's body. Jeff had fired one round, just above his body armor, into his chest.

“I knew you'd have to kill him,” Mel said, holding my hand.

I shook my head. “Yeah, but I didn't. If Jeff hadn't been here, I'd be dead.”

“But you're not, and that's the only thing that matters to me.” Mel squeezed my hand. “Let's go inside.”

Pulling my hand away, I said, “I can't, babe. I've got to go see what's happened, if they need any help.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “How much longer are you going to do this? How many times do you think you're going to cheat death?” She pointed off in the direction of the shooting from Sarge's crew. “You're not like them; you're not a soldier. You need to think of the girls and me. What are we going to do if something happens to you?”

“Mel, what do you think I'm doing? You think I like this? Getting shot at, people pointing guns at me, running for my life? If I don't do it, who's going to? Those people you pointed to are here to help us. They don't have to be here; they could leave and go about their merry way, but they're here, protecting you and the girls. Protecting you and the girls isn't their job. It's mine.”

Nodding her head, she wiped her eyes. “I know, I know, I just don't want anything to happen to you. I don't know what we'd do.”

“Neither do I, but now because of this”—I pointed to Mark's body—“we can't stay here, so start packing.”

E
xhausted, I headed for the intersection. The rest of the guys were already gathered there, talking nervously. Jeff had filled them in on the details of what had happened.

“How're Mel and the girls?” Danny asked.

“Scared, terrified.”

“I would imagine, which is why we need to get the hell outta here,” Sarge said. “I know you boys don't want to”—Sarge looked both Danny and me—“but I don't want to see anyone else here get killed.”

“Me neither, Morg; they's been enough loss 'round here. We need to git while the gittin's good,” Thad said.

This time there was no disagreement from me and Danny. We simply nodded in agreement.

“Atta boy.” Sarge slapped me on the back. “Take everything you need and anything that's important to you. They'll probably burn your place down, like they did mine.”

“Yeah, there wasn't shit left,” Ted added.

“I figured as much.”

“We can't possibly move everything, plus I want everything I have,” Danny said.

“What's worth more, you an' Bobbie's lives or your shit?”

“I have an idea where you can move some of the extra stuff,” I said, explaining the shop at the house where I'd found the trailer. They surely wouldn't burn down every house in the neighborhood.

“Right now, let's just get to work moving what we need. We don't know how long we have or what they'll do after this,” Sarge said.

We broke up, everyone heading to their respective houses to begin the bug out.

Inside the house, it was like moving day. Chaos reigned supreme, with girls shouting from what seemed like every room of the house. Bags and boxes packed with everything from food and toiletries to clothes and cookware were stacked by the front door. Mattresses were stripped of bedding and pulled into the living room. I pulled the truck out to the shop and went in, awed by the sheer volume of what was needed and the limited amount of space we had. I started loading ammo, then moved on to food buckets, the last of the canned food and tools and camping gear. While I was loading, Sarge came into the shop.

“We need to get Mel and the girls out of here as soon as we can. We'll make as many trips tonight as we can, but come sunup, we need to be out of here.”

When I made way back to the house, the living room was packed so high I had to go through the kitchen. Mel was in Little Bit's room, stuffing clothes into a plastic grocery bag.

“Let's start loading some stuff. Leave just enough room for them in the backseat.”

Mel looked up, red-faced. “How long do we have?”

“I don't know, but you and the girls will go on the first trip and stay there, and then we'll come back for everything else we can get.”

She stood up and brushed her hair out of her face. “What happened to Reggie?”

“He was shot while we were standing around on the corner. We couldn't even tell where it came from. They used a suppressed rifle and were pretty far away.”

“Why are they trying to kill us?” She shook her head. “I just don't get it. What have we done?”

“We've killed some of theirs and they're pretty pissed about it now.”

“Yeah, but you guys didn't go looking for them; it was in self-defense. What if they find us there? Then what are we going to do?”

“Let's just hope they don't. Don't think about it now. Let's get to loading.”

We stuffed the truck as full as we could, so much so that glass from the back windows was pushed out, pieces falling into the driveway. I told Mel to keep packing, and that I was going to go and get Danny and Bobbie. Taylor dropped a large duffel bag to the floor and announced that she was done packing.

“Good, come with me,” I said as I headed for the door.

She followed me outside to the porch.

“I never dreamed I'd ever say anything like this, but you stay out here and keep watch. Stay on the porch; don't go wandering off.”

“I will. I'll keep watch.” She hung her head, eyes on the ground. “Dad, I'm really sorry about earlier. I should have helped you. He could have killed you.”

I grabbed her hand. “This isn't a game. I'm glad you were scared; you should be. And I'm really glad you didn't shoot him. I hope you never have to shoot anyone. If you see anyone suspicious, go inside and tell Mom. I'm just going to Danny's and won't be long.”

She nodded. Meathead came trotting up on the porch, which made me feel a little better. His nose would smell someone long before she saw them. Danny and Bobbie were stacking stuff into the trailer when I got there.

“You don't want to take that frickin' thing, do you?” I asked pointing to his gun safe, which was sitting on an appliance dolly on the front porch.

“Hell yeah, we put this in one of the cabins and bolt it down, it will give us a secure place to store stuff. You can get into those cabins with a damn hammer.”

He had a point, so together, we wrestled it onto the trailer. After that, he asked me to help him get some stuff from the sheds. We were loading up some tools when Sarge pulled up with Ted and Doc.

“You two ready?” He pointed to the safe. “What the fuck?”

“I said the same thing, but as he pointed out it will give us a place to store stuff in case of intruders.”

“I guess you got a point. Let's get moving, we have to make this first trip before dark.”

“Where's Thad?” I asked.

“He's going to stay here. At least four of us need to go, so there's two in each vehicle. We're gonna drop Doc off on the way out.”

“All right, let's go by my place and get Mel and the girls. There's room in the trailer and plenty left to load up there.”

I pulled the truck up in front of the house and with everyone's help we quickly filled the trailer. The mattresses and stuff the girls would need for the night took priority. Danny, Bobbie and Ted would ride out with Sarge and one of them would ride with me on the way back. We got the girls loaded with plenty of complaining from them about being cramped from all the stuff we'd packed, and then we headed off, with Sarge in the lead and Jeff behind me on his Harley.

As I pulled out onto the highway, Lee Ann pointed to the smoldering remains of the house where I had been just a few hours ago.

“Dad, what happened to that house?”

I looked at her in the mirror. “That's where the sniper was.” The girls all craned their necks to get a better look.

We passed through Altoona quickly, garnering the attention of the people milling about in front of the store. I'm sure they'd heard the fireworks. Sarge stepped on it and we were doing sixty as we headed to Paisley. He finally had to slow down when he turned onto the dirt road into the forest.

At the cabins, everyone went to work unloading. Danny and I were carrying a mattress into our cabin when he asked about Reggie. In all the madness I'd forgotten about his body still lying in the road. “Hey, Sarge, we got to do something about his body,” I called to Sarge as he headed for the cabin with a mattress balanced on his head.

“We will; he ain't going anywhere,” he said casually as he went through the door.

I looked at Mike as he grabbed a couple of boxes and rolled my eyes. “Is he always like that? Doesn't he care about anyone?”

“Dude, he cares more than you know. But y'all are alive and Reggie isn't and there's no time to mourn right now.” He walked off toward the house with the boxes, leaving me to feel like an asshole.

I jogged over to him. “Hey, man, I wasn't trying to be a dick.”

He slapped me on the shoulder. “No worries, man. He's still a grumpy ole fucker, but he cares.”

In less than thirty minutes the trailer and truck were unloaded, our stuff in one cabin and Danny and Bobbie's in another. Danny and I both tried to tell Sarge we could use one cabin to give them more room, but he and the other guys insisted. Sarge summed it up. “Families need space.”

I gave Mel a hug and kiss, told her I'd be back soon and headed for the truck.

“Be careful,” she called out.

“I will.”

Jeff came up to the truck as Danny was getting in on the passenger side. “Don't worry, man, we'll keep an eye on 'em.”

“I know, and thanks.”

He slapped the door as I pulled away. We made two more trips, hauling more crap then you could imagine—fuel drums from my house, wood stoves, generators that Ted scavenged from abandoned houses while we were gone. We were on our way out to the cabins on the fourth trip when the bill for using the exact same route again and again was delivered.

Just after we made the turn onto Highway 42 at the Kangaroo store, a figure stepped out into the road and fired at Sarge's buggy. Danny and I realized something was up when Ted opened up on the SAW from the passenger side. The muzzle flashes in the tunnel of trees in the dark gave the scene a surreal strobe-light effect. I saw the figure in the road go down. Tracers streamed from the weapon as Ted turned his attention to the right side of the road.

“On the right, fire on the right side!” Sarge screamed into the radio.

Danny stuck the muzzle of his rifle out the window and fired blindly into the night. Sarge stomped on the accelerator, and I followed suit, pushing the old Suburban hard to clear the ambush.

“Is everyone okay? You guys all right back there?” Sarge called.

“Yeah, we're good, you guys all right?” Danny replied.

“I sprung a leak, but it ain't nothin'.”

“I hope the old shit's all right,” I said, watching the road ahead.

“It'd probably take more than that to kill the old fucker.”

We made it to the cabins without further incident. Sarge climbed out of the buggy, blood all over his face, though you couldn't tell from the way he acted. He immediately went to unloading the trailer.

“Sarge, hey, you need to clean that shit up,” I said, grabbing his arm as he headed for the cabin.

Jerking his arm away, he said, “I'm fine, it's only a scratch.”

“I ain't worried about your old ass; I don't want my wife and kids to see you like this. Clean that shit up,” I said as I threw him a bandanna.

He smiled, the glow from kerosene lanterns barely illuminating his face. “Good point,” he said as he started to wipe at the drying blood, spitting onto the cloth, “What'd ya mean, you ain't worried about me?” he said, grinning like a mule eating unripe apples.

“Shit, it'd take more than that to kill your ole mean ass. You ain't fooling anyone.”

He laughed and picked up a box, helping me and the guys carry the rest of what needed to go inside into the cabins.

“Are you done for the night?” Mel asked as I dropped a box onto the ground.

“No, one more trip and we are. How are the girls taking to the new place?”

She pointed to two mattresses on the other side of the cabin. They were all out.

“Good, you okay?”

“Yeah, Mike and Jeff are being a pain in the ass trying too hard to help, but I'm all right.”

I laughed. “Take a broom to 'em if they get to bothering you.”

“I will. Just hurry, okay?”

“We will.” I kissed her on my way out the door and glanced at my watch. It was two forty-five in the morning. One more trip would put us here close to daylight.

“Morgan!” Sarge called from outside.

I hopped down the stairs. “Yeah!”

“We need another route; we can't go that way again.”

“There's another way, but we're going to have to cut through the woods. Since we aren't taking the trailer this trip, we should be able to make it.”

“You got enough fuel in this rig?”

“Yeah, but it will probably be close to empty by the time we get back.”

Sarge looked around for the drums delivered earlier in the evening. “Any diesel around here?”

I pointed to a drum. “About ten gallons in that one.”

“Let's get that onboard and hurry up about it.” Sarge grabbed the radio mic from his shoulder. “Thad, how's it looking over there?”

“All quiet. Was all the shootin' you guys?”

“Yeah, we ran into a little something. Everyone's all right. We're about to head back. Taking a different route this time, though, so it's gonna take longer.”

“We'll be waiting.”

Jeff helped me pump the fuel into the truck with a bucket since the pump wouldn't pick it up. Sarge was standing in the driver's seat of his buggy watching us. “Hurry the hell up!”

“Grumpy ole fuck,” Jeff said, slipping the hose out of the truck.

“What!” Sarge barked.

Jeff looked at me and I smiled, shaking my head.

“What's he got, bionic ears?”

“Nah, I think he's got a Miracle-Ear,” I said, laughing.

Jeff started to laugh as he took the bucket and pump to store. Looking over his shoulder, he yelled, “Y'all come back now, ya hear?”

“You ready?” I asked Danny.

“Nope.”

“Good, me neither.”

Instead of taking a left off the cabin road we went right. I was hoping that no one would be up this late in Shockley Heights, and we seemed to be in the clear so far. It was as if we were the last people on Earth—there was no one around, no sign of life. Veering off the road, we took one of the streets that dead-ended into a dirt road that lead out into the forest.

Driving down that road, I thought about the history of this area. When settlers first moved into the Ocala Forest area, they found it to be an inhospitable land. The deep sugar sand made the prospect of farming bleak at best. The only thing growing in most of the forest was scrub oaks, sand pines and palmettos. The sand, remnants of a seafloor from long ago, made growing anything nearly impossible. And it also created problems for travelers—including us. I was bouncing Danny around as we headed down the road. Even in the days prior to our current situation, it was a place reserved for rednecks and 4×4s.