Betrayal: Society Lost, Volume Two (8 page)

Looking at his watch and comparing it to the position of the sun, Jessie exhaled deeply and said reluctantly, “Okay, we’ll go in together. Let’s get a move on before we find ourselves on the run again. Let’s get old Eli saddled up and get the extra gear loaded up. You and I can walk, and he can haul the gear. Although I would love to take my time to observe and plan, I have a feeling our window of opportunity is getting narrower with each passing moment. As soon as they realize what happened to your former cohorts they sent after you, the game will start to change.”

Chapter Fifteen

Walking over to the record player while Leina sat quietly in the leather chair by the bookshelf, Chief Peronne lifted the needle off the record spinning on the turntable and removed it, carefully putting it away. Blowing the dust off another record that he carefully removed from an old, well-worn album cover, he placed it gently and began to watch it spin as he lowered the needle. “You’re gonna love this one,” he said, appearing to be lost in the music.

Closing his eyes as he listened intently to the crackle through the speakers of the old machine, he smiled as the saxophone and old upright bass began to belt out his favorite tune, followed by the smooth and hypnotic sound of an electric guitar that was clearly in very skilled hands. “It’s food for the soul,” he said as he swayed with the rhythm and the beat.

Looking the bookshelf over as she took another sip of wine, Leina noticed it was full of the great classics of modern literature, as well as Greek philosophy and books on the art of war.

As he eyes scanned each volume, her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of his footsteps coming closer and his voice, saying, “Feel free to take any of them to read.”

“You’ve got quite a collection,” she said smartly.

With a smug look on his face, he opened his mouth to reply just as she asked, “Did you acquire them all yourself, or did they belong to someone else before the collapse?”

Pausing for a moment, his smile fading from view, Chief Peronne said, “That’s why we need you around here.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because you’re a survivor. That’s why you kept yourself and your children alive for so long. You can’t let even one moment go by without asserting some level of control. You feel the need to guide even the simplest conversation. I admire that. Strength is what this world needs most of all. Weakness is what got us into the mess.”

“Weakness, betrayal, and treachery,” she replied, taking a sip of wine.

“Indeed,” he replied calmly, increasing the sharpness of his gaze. “Back to my point, though, we need someone like you around here. I can offer you a home to live in, and although we don’t have a traditional monetary system for trade, I can offer you food, clothing, and everything you need.”

“And for the children?”

“Of course, the children,” he replied. “The children can go to school with the other kids and live about as normal a life as one could expect these days.”

“Don’t you mean
we
?” she asked, looking him directly in the eye.

Confused by her statement, he said, “Excuse me? I don’t follow.”

“Don’t you mean
we
as in the residents of the town. You keep saying
I.
I thought as a police officer, even the chief of police, that you were simply one of the town’s civil servants. Does what you are offering me belong to you, or the townspeople?”

Placing his glass on the table, he turned to her and said in a calm and collected voice, “Look, I respect your tenacity, but you don’t need to pick apart every word I say. Arguing over semantics isn’t going to get us anywhere. I’m trying to do something good for you.”

“All I want from you is to stop playing games and bring back my children.”

Taking a seat across from her, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, he began to speak, as Leina was distracted by a dizzy feeling that started to come over her.
Was it the wine?
she thought, looking at her glass.
It has been a while since I’ve had a drink.

Tuning back into his words, she could tell that Chief Peronne was seemingly becoming more agitated as he spoke, saying, “Look, I brought you here to this beautiful house. I offered you expensive wine—which is a real luxury these days that not many people can acquire. I’ve played beautiful music for you from antique and hard-to-find albums. And I’ve offered you a life and a future that many women around the world would literally kill for today. And how do you show your thanks? You repay me with disrespect...”

Her vision now becoming blurry, she tuned out his words for a moment as she tried to get a grip of herself. Interrupting his childish rant, she demanded, “Where are the children? Stop... stop playing games and bring them to me,” she said as the room began to spin.

Standing in front of her, Chief Peronne walked over to her and said, “That’s enough of that. You’re not in a position to keep making demands. And quite frankly, I’m tired of hearing it.”

A feeling of warmth and numbness began to come over her as she looked at her glass. “You bastard!” she shouted as she splashed him in the face with its remaining contents.

Picking up a decorative towel from an elegant silver serving tray next to the bottle of wine, he wiped his face, and with a crooked smile, said, “It’s clear I may not get what I want from you, but I’ll sure as hell take what I need.”

Chapter Sixteen

As the chill of the cool night’s breeze blew across Jessie’s face, he paused in the crouching position, looking and listening for any activity up ahead. Having worked their way around Fort Sumner at a safe distance, arcing around to the north and northwest, Jessie and T. R. were finally in a position to make their move into the town.

Looking back toward T. R.’s last known position, Jessie signaled for him to hold there. Working his way back to T. R. through the brush of the surrounding area, Jessie arrived to find T. R. waiting patiently with Eli as he had been instructed.

“Are you ready to do this?” Jessie asked as if to offer T. R. one final opportunity to change his mind.

“Yes, sir,” T. R. replied sharply.

“You know we’re not going to just walk out of there, right? At some point, it’s gonna get rough. Someone is gonna get killed. Who that someone is remains to be seen. Are you sure you’re up to walking right into the middle of it all, knowing the advantages they have?”

“Without question,” T. R. replied.

“Well, let me take care of something first,” Jessie said as he walked over to Eli and began to scratch him on the top of his head and underneath his chin. “Eli, old boy,” Jessie said with fondness and affection in his voice. “I don’t know where things are gonna go from here. If I see you again, you can rest assured you always have a home with me. But just in case I don’t return, I want you to have a fighting chance,” he said as he removed Eli’s harness.

Walking around to the saddle, Jessie removed the load Eli had dutifully carried and then removed the saddle itself, as well. “Go on, boy. I’m sure you can find plenty to eat out there,” he said, walking back up in front of him and scratching him under the chin for what could be the last time. “Just do me a favor. Stay away from people, if you can. We’re the most dangerous predator out there. Unlike a wolf or a mountain lion, whose motivations are always consistent and clear, a man’s motives can never be trusted, unless, of course, that trust is earned. Now, go. Go live out your retirement in freedom.” he said, giving Eli a swat on the rear end, running him off into the darkness and away from the dangers of town.

“You don’t think we’re gonna need him when it’s over?” T. R. asked.

“That wouldn’t be fair to him. We’ve got about as much chance of making it back to him in one piece as he does of picking up a rifle and joining us. No, if something were to happen to us, I want Eli to live out his final days as he sees fit. Leaving him out here, tied to a tree to starve to death while he waits for us to return would be cruel. There’s just too many ways this can all go wrong to leave him in that kind of a situation.”

Nodding in agreement, T. R. asked, “So what now? What’s the plan?”

“It’s your plan from here. You know the river. You know our adversary. I’m second guessing the floating idea, though.”

“What do you mean?” T. R. asked, confused as to what Jessie meant.

“I’d feel like a sitting duck, floating along at the mercy of the current, just waiting to be shot. How deep is the river on average?”

“I think it averages eight feet deep below the Lake Sumner dam, but it’s quite shallow in many places.”

“Eight feet in the center, right? How’s the gradient of the riverbank? Is it steep or shallow?”

“Mostly shallow,” T. R. replied. I believe you could walk out into most of it until it got too deep, but that’s not an educated answer. That’s a casual observer’s answer.”

“Let’s use the river as our access point, as you recommended, but let’s go in on foot, wading in the shallows, with the ability to disappear quickly under the cover of the water if need be. It will be slower going, but I have a feeling it would be much safer and stealthier than floating down the middle of the river, potentially drifting right in front of trouble with little recourse.”

Thinking it over for a moment, T. R. nodded in agreement and said, “That sounds like a plan.”

“Great,” Jessie replied. “You take point from here. The river, according to my estimations based on our approximate position in relation to this map, is about a half mile up ahead. We should intercept it a mile or so north of the edge of town. We’ll hike down the riverbank until we get close, and then we can slip into the water with our rifles across our shoulders or on our heads, and just allow ourselves to drift with the current, guided by our feet and the river bottom. Again, since you know the environment and the threat, you take point. We’ll exit the water at a location that you feel is advantageous.”

“Roger that,” T. R. replied as he slung his AR15 over his shoulder, beginning his advancement toward the river.

“Oh, and by the way,” Jessie said, getting T. R.’s attention.

Turning back to see what Jessie had to say, T. R. replied, “What’s up?”

“Don’t forget to switch your safety off this time. If it’s a big enough threat to justify pointing your rifle at it, it’s a big enough threat to be prepared and configured to shoot.”

With a half-hearted chuckle, T. R. replied, “Yeah, right,” as he turned and headed off into the darkness toward the river to the southwest of their position.

~~~~

Approaching the river, barely visible from the near lack of moonlight due to a high cloud layer moving into the area, T. R. motioned for Jessie to advance toward his position and to rally on him. Unsure if Jessie had seen his signal in the darkness of the night, he focused intently, trying to catch a glimpse of movement in the direction from which he came.

“What’s up?” Jessie whispered, approaching T. R. from the side.

Startled, T. R. whispered, “Holy crap, man! I thought you were behind me.”

“I was behind you,” Jessie replied. “Behind you is that way,” he said, pointing off in the darkness.

“It’s so damn dark I guess I lost my bearings. Anyway, the river is just up ahead. You can hear the water flowing if you listen.”

“Yeah, I hear it,” Jessie replied. Removing his Colt from its holster, Jessie tied a piece of paracord around the trigger guard and then tied the pistol around his neck, tucking it inside his shirt. Next, removing his rifle’s sling from his shoulder, Jessie put his AR-10 across the back of his neck, holding the barrel with his left hand and the stock with his right. He wrapped the slack of the sling around his right fist, ensuring that he would maintain his grip on the weapon if troubles were to arise.

“You’d better get yourself together for fighting from the neck up,” he said to T. R. “You’ll want the things you need to be able to get to near the surface, not only to keep them safe, but to have them readily accessible, and so that they don’t get lost. The last thing I would want to do is drop my pistol underwater while trying to draw it from the holster.”

“I think my pistol will be fine,” T. R. replied. “But I’ll keep my rifle high and dry.”

“Are you ready?” Jessie asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get on with it,” T. R. said as he turned and slipped off into the brush in the direction of the river.

Arriving at the river’s edge, T. R. turned to make sure Jessie was behind him. With a nod, he then slipped quietly into the water with Jessie approximately ten yards behind.

Working their way downstream toward town, the riverbank transitioned from a mix of sandy stone and mud, to thick and dense brush and vegetation that extended over the river’s edge and into the water, forcing both men further into the river, bringing the water level up to their chests. With the sense of touch alone to navigate river bottom below, T. R.’s right foot slipped into a hole, tripping him, forcing him to slide backward and underneath the water. As his body slid backward, feet-first downstream, the current washed him off his feet, taking him below. Disoriented by the darkness and the sudden fall, T. R. struggled to get solid footing to slow his current-induced slide into the deeper center of the river.

Finally securing his footing, T. R. shoved off the river’s bottom with both feet, only to find that he was entangled in something. With panic now setting in, he released his grip on his rifle and began to feel around in the total darkness, to find a rope of some sort that had become tangled between his clothing and his holster. Yanking on it fiercely, but to no avail, he reached for his knife in a panicked attempt to cut himself free. In his disoriented and frightened state, he fumbled the knife, allowing the current to wash it free from his grip.

At the surface, Jessie had heard T. R. slip and fall beneath the water, yet could not see him in the absence of light. “Hey,” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

Hearing no response, Jessie tried his best to focus his eyes in the near total darkness. Hearing rustling off to his left in the brush along the side of the riverbank. Quickly bringing his rifle over his head, Jessie flipped the selector switch to the fire position and trained his barrel on the source of the noise.

Realizing that the noise was not a human threat, Jessie worked his way to it, following the sounds of the rustling branches until he felt a taut line that reached from beneath the water and was tied off to one of the thick branches of the brush. Feeling the force being applied to the line from underneath the water, Jessie quickly drew his knife and slashed at the rope, immediately cutting it, releasing the tension.

Beneath the water, as T. R.’s desperate attempts to free himself had all failed and he was unable to hold his breath any longer, he released the air held within his lungs and began to choke as he felt the tension in the line release and go slack. Moving again with the current, the line pulled against him, still snagged to his holster, causing the current to wash him to the far side of the river where the rope was still secured.

Pushing toward the surface with all of his might, his head emerged as he began immediately gasping for air and coughing violently. Crawling up onto the rocky and sandy shore on the far side of the river, T. R. vomited profusely, pumping water from his stomach and clearing his throat. “Damn it to hell,” he mumbled while coughing hoarsely.

Hearing a whistle from the far side of the river, he muttered, “Okay... I’m... I’m okay.”

Feeling around his holster, T. R. snagged something sharp with his hand, puncturing his skin. “Damn it,” he said aloud as he winced in pain, quickly pulling back his hand. Feeling around slowly, he felt fishhooks and said, “It’s a damn trotline. Crap. I was almost killed by a damn trotline. Get it together!” he said as if scolding himself.

From the far side of the riverbank, T. R. could hear Jessie faintly saying, “Report.”

“I’m okay,” he answered. “It’s too deep here to swim across with all this gear. I’ll stay on this side of the river for a while until it shallows out again, then I’ll cross back over.”

“Roger that,” Jessie replied.

Once T. R. successfully worked the fishhook lose from his holster, the two once again began working their way downstream toward town.

~~~~

Approximately a mile downstream from the site of T. R.’s close call, the river widened and provided suitable shallows with several gravel bars, allowing T. R. to cross.

Meeting backup with Jessie, T. R. said, “Around the next bend is the railroad bridge that spans the river. That’s one of the points that there is likely a lookout, or at a minimum, a regular patrol. We need to get out of the water here and head off in that direction,” he said as he pointed toward the east. There are several dry washes between here and town that are full of brush and trees, and that fill with water when the water level in the river is high. They should be dry now, but we can use them as cover as we work our way into town.”

Patting T. R. on the shoulder, Jessie said, “Lead the way.”