Freedom Fight: Beginnings Series Book 9 (11 page)

The hours crept into late ones and the police station was quiet. The Captain sat staring at the radio as if he were in the old world watching television. He smiled at the antics of Beginnings and sifted through the boring hourly check ins from the guards. He took notes as he sat there, feeling pulled to listen and taking in all that he heard.

“So what am I supposed to do?” A male Beginnings man spoke.

“Christ, why are you calling me with this shit. Find Mr. Big Head of security,” The second one responded.

“Mr. Head of security is part of the problem.”

“Ignore it.”

“I can’t. I’m just trying to walk my beat in the living section. Gemma grabbed me three times and told me to do something about it.”

“Blow her off. They can’t be making that much noise. I can’t hear them and I’m closer than she is.”

“She says it’s interrupting her sleep.”

“What the hell are they hooting about anyhow?”

“It’s the first adult movie night. They’re watching something called Pornos.”

“Pornos.”

The Captain laughed.

“Some movie about midget lesbians.”

“What?” The second voice blasted. “Midget lesbians?”

“Yeah the guys love it too. It’s called Little Women.”

At that point a loud roaring laughter emanated from The Captain. He laughed so hard he completely missed a few of the things they had said.

“All right,” The second voice said sounding so perturbed, “Go down there tell them I said to pipe their asses down or I’m coming down. If I come down there will be no more adult movies about midget lesbians. Got that?”

“Got it.”

“And tell Mr. Security his ass better not be getting drunk or I will kick it.”

“Got it chief, right away.

The final response from the second voice did not come in the form of words. He merely grumbled in annoyance and disconnected the radio call.

There was something about the transmissions of Beginnings The Captain monitored that pulled at him. The normalcy perhaps, civilization, or the fact that they were so wrapped up in their own little world. Beginnings was more oblivious to what was going on around them than they cared to admit. Their antics, their zest for life, whatever it was, The Captain was not alone in enjoying them. Everyone in Bowman seemed to slip into the police station at least once during the day to catch some Beginnings chatter. But at that moment, the transmissions grew more fun as the one guard in Beginnings tried with diligence to settle the hooting men. The entire episode carried over the airwaves. The Captain drew a peaceful look upon his face with a partial smile. He rocked back and forth in his chair, a pen clenched between his teeth, and kept on listening.

It wasn’t what Ellen wanted to hear. Frank’s coughing was worse and had become that way steadily through the night. Now it was deeper, more frequent, and the rumbling had started. She peered out the cabin door, the phone tightly to her ear, and watched Frank finish placing things in the truck. He didn’t walk in his usual manner. He slumped a bit and staggered.

“Robbie, I don’t know.” Ellen looked out the door once more then turned her back to it. “He’s not well.”

“Want me to fly on out and met you?”

“I do, but I know your brother. He’ll get pissed if we act like he can’t do this. I’m just worried about him. Can you let Dean know the pneumonia’s back?”

“I can do that,” Robbie said.

“I’m just worried about him Robbie that’s . . .” Ellen felt the phone slip from her hand. “Hey.”

Frank talked into it. “Robbie, I’m fine. See you in a few.” Frank hung up the phone and handed it back to Ellen. “Ready?”

“Are you sure . . .”

“El.”

“All right.” Ellen placed the phone in the back pack and lifted it. “Promise me when you get home you will go straight to bed.”

“I’ll promise that if you promise you will be my nurse.”

“I don’t know, Frank. I’m still mad about the drowning thing.” Ellen smiled. “I’ll be your nurse.”

“Good.” Frank smiled, kissed her quickly and took her arm. “Let’s go.” He led her from the cabin and closed the door.

He walked Ellen to her side of the truck, tossed her bag in then waited for Ellen to jump up. Frank lent a hand, boosting her by her backside. He shut the door and walked to his side, grabbed the M-16 from the bed of the truck, and got in.

Ellen watched Frank’s hand reach for the key, his other hand gripped and released the steering wheel as he blinked several times, staring out, “Frank? You want me to drive.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m fine.” He started the truck. “I want to make it home in one piece to rest.” He leaned over to Ellen and kissed her softly. “Thanks for these past few days,” he said, “even though you hated it.”

“You drowned me, Frank.”

Frank slipped his hand further behind her head and kissed her again. He pulled Ellen into him, intensifying the kiss. His hand slipped to the top of her head.

“Frank. . . .” Ellen tried to pull from the kiss and she felt his lips move to her neck. “Frank what . . .” She felt the pressure of his hand pushing on her head. “What are . . .” Harshly Ellen’s head was shoved and she met Frank’s groin face first. There was a screech of the tires and the truck sped forth. “Frank!”

“Stay down!” There was a loud bang on the hood of the truck as Frank careened into two Society soldiers, sending one flying on the hood and rolling off.

“Oh my God, what’s going on?” Ellen gripped tightly to Frank’s thigh as her head hit several times off the steering wheel with each bounce the truck took.

Frank, staying calmed, peered out the rearview mirror. He could see the large Military style truck close behind him and in the distance, another picking up soldiers. “Fuck. El, where’s the phone.”

“In my bag.”

“Where’s the bag,”

“Over there.” Her arm pointed to the bag on the floor.

Frank’s eyes shifted between the road, the bag, and the mirror. “Get it, but stay down. I need you to call Robbie. Tell him we had to head north and we need his help.”

“Oh my God, you’re calling for help. It must be bad.”

“Well . . . it’s been better. Call him now. Now!” Frank slammed his foot harder on the gas and shifted gears. He watched the second truck close in and the truck behind him was so close he could see the driver. “El.” Frank looked ahead. “Shit.” In the distance, drawing nearer and heading right for them, was a third truck.

Ellen scooted over, staying down. Shaking and bouncing around she reached into her bag and pulled out the phone. Her fingers fumbled in nervousness as she tried to dial.

“Hold on,” Frank told her.

“What . . .”

SLAM! Frank saw it coming. He tried to avoid it as best as he could but the third truck slammed into the side rear of the small pickup. The pickup swerved and Frank clenched the wheel, fighting it back into control.

Ellen flipped over from the hard moving pickup. She slid half from the seat backwards, banged her head off the door, and dropped the phone. She reached down and picked it up.

“Call him, El.”

“I’m trying.”

With determination, Frank shifted gears, keeping his views straight ahead. “El, I need you to take the wheel.”

“Frank.” Ellen tried to dial.

“Take the wheel.” Frank reached into his shoulder harness and pulled out his revolver. He wound down the window. “El.”

Breathing heavily and frightened, Ellen dialed the number and scooted over. “Please don’t tell me you need me to drive.”

“I need you to drive now.”

Holding the phone with one hand, Ellen reached for the wheel.

“Take the gas.”

Take the gas, drive the car, call Robbie?
Ellen could barely react and think. She sat up, grabbed the wheel better, and slipped her foot to the gas.

“You got it?” Frank asked.

“Yeah.” The phone began to ring.

“Get ready?” Frank felt the pressure of the peddle go to Ellen.

“Get ready for . . . Frank!”

The door to the pickup opened bringing in a blast of air as Frank swung out on it. The pressure of the air behind him caused a loud roaring in his ears. He gripped the open window with one hand, planted his feet, one on the door, the other in the door frame, and held out his revolver, aiming and firing at the three trucks that now followed.

Robbie answered his phone. “Security.” He heard nothing but shots. “Hello?”

“Robbie,” Ellen sounded frantic. “We had to head north. Help us.” The pickup bounced hard and the phone fumbled from Ellen’s hand and onto the floor.

The military trucks moved back and forth avoiding Frank’s shots. He used them sparingly, taking only shots he knew he would be hits. Frank saw it, held tight, and ignored the bad road they drove on. He spotted the eyes of the driver of the closer truck. Frank fired then the windshield shattered at the same instance the driver’s blood spewed outward like a shower. The truck careened off the side of the road and Frank quickly slid back in.

In the transferring of feet on the gas pedal, the pickup slowed down. Frank reached out his arm to shut the door but retracted it with speed when a Society truck flew by them, taking off the driver’s door and sending it rolling off to the old overgrown highway.

“O.K.” Frank drove rapidly, seeing the truck that passed him pull sideways and block the road. “Hand me the M-16.

Ellen reached down for the weapon that had fallen to the floor. As she lifted it, she saw the truck ahead. “Frank it’s close.”

“I know.”

“We’re gonna hit it.” She handed him the weapon.

“Nah.” Frank took the gun.

Ellen’s eyes widened in horror.
The truck was so close
. Frank grabbed the M-16.
The truck pulled closer
. Frank tossed the strap over his head. “Frank . . .” Ellen jammed her foot to the floor as if she had her own brake. She could see, at their high speed, the faces of the soldiers that stood before the Society truck, aiming. “Frank!”

“Hold on!” At the same time Frank moved the weapon under his other shoulder, he jolted the truck hard to the left. The tires screamed as the pickup nearly went on two wheels, missing the society truck and going from the road that wasn’t that great to begin with, off to the deeply over grown side. They headed toward the woods. Fast and furious Frank drove, jerking the wheel and barely squeezing between the tress.

“Oh God.” Ellen bounced high. “We’re gonna hit a tree.”

“Probably.” Frank pulled Ellen closer to him, staying almost too calm. “When I tell you to, hold on tight and don’t let go.”

“Are we getting out?”

“Yes. Ready?”

“Wait. Aren’t you stopping?”

“No, we’re on fire.”

“What . . .” Ellen turned her head back to see the bright orange blaze ripping from the bed of the pickup. “Oh shit.”

“Hold on.” Frank gripped her.

“Frank . . .” Ellen shrieked as she felt herself being pulled from the truck.

Together they hit the ground. They rolled intertwined together only briefly. Their bodies careened over a small hillside, bounced off the rugged ground, and separated. At different speeds, they slid down the hill. Frank caught himself mid fall, rolled into a semi stand and ran down the hill.

Ellen just rolled until she hit the bottom, landing face first on the ground.

“El.” Frank raced to her reaching down his hand. “You O.K.?”

“I…I think.” Ellen lifted herself by her hands, raising her chest from the ground. “I think I’m fine just . . .” Ellen never got to finish her words. Frank gripped her arm, jerked her up to her feet and brushed her off.

“Let’s book.” Without waiting for Ellen to say anything, Frank tugged her along and they began to run.

^^^^

There were very few things in life Robbie took seriously or did with any seriousness, but when he needed to take the role, he filled his big brother’s shoes without any disappointments. With a look of determination on his face, Robbie bolted from Armory with Joe and they both jumped in the Jeep. He peeled out fast and drove the quickest route to the hanger.

“Johnny,” Robbie spoke into the headset. “Just get it in the air. I want you panning north, north east, I’m headed north west. Got it?”

“Got it,” Johnny answered. “I’ll be in the air in two.”

“Excellent.” Robbie shifted gears.

“Robbie, nothing else was said?” Joe asked.

“Nothing. Just that they needed help. I heard gun shots.”

“Damn it, it has to be bad if Frank is asking for help.”

“Frank’s sick.” Robbie kept his stare straight ahead and saw the hanger come into view.

“He’s what?”

“Sick. El called me this morning. His pneumonia is back. I’m just hoping it’s not that bad. He’s just not well enough to handle it.”

“Let’s hope that the . . .” Joe stopped talking when they pulled up near the hanger. He saw Dean by the chopper. “What’s
he
doing here?’

“Probably making good on your offer to go.” Robbie jumped from the Jeep.

Joe grumbled as he followed. “I’ll take care of this for you.”

“Don’t bother, I’ll handle it.” Robbie approached the chopper and Dean. He slid open the side door. “So Dean, you’re my gunner and spotter.”

“Do you need me to be?”

“Yep, get in and let’s go.” Robbie saw the odd look that Joe gave him. “Dad.” Robbie grinned and pointed to his own eyes. “He has built in binoculars.” He hurried to his side, jumped in and without hesitation, started the engines.

Joe stepped back. In the distance he could see Johnny’s chopper flying off. He felt the whipping wind of the blades and squinted his eyes from the dust. He stood there watching Robbie lift off, and didn’t leave until he couldn’t see them anymore.

^^^^