Innocence Lost (5 page)

Ben

              The jeep rumbled down the road towards their destination. Zima and Mason sat in the front while Ben sat in the back with Stevenson and Rook. The very back of the jeep was filled with gas containers and the rest of their supplies. The top of the jeep was down and Ben enjoyed the feeling of the wind passing over him. With the wind whipping past, Ben felt like all his cares were being swept away, taken by the passing wind. He caught Rook watching him and the man just smiled and gave him a knowing nod.

              The jeep slowed and came to a complete stop.

              “Looks like we might have something here.” Mason said from the front.

              Both Rook and Stevenson stood up and looked out from the top of the jeep. Ben looked straight ahead and all he could see where several vehicles stopped in the road 200 yards in front of them.

              Mason pulled out his binoculars and stared ahead. “Yep looks like we have an ambush point ahead.”

              Ben looked again and while at first it had just appeared the vehicles were broken down randomly on the road, on closer inspection, he saw they were set up so that it would take slow going for a vehicle to go around all of them.

              “Alright what’s the call?” Mason asked.

              Zima surveyed the land. “The tree lines on both sides of the road will provide plenty of cover. Mason, you take the right, I’ll take left. Stevenson, Rook, you give us ten and then head towards the spot slowly. If there is anyone there, that will draw them out and we’ll take ’em down.”

              “Sir.” they all answered in unison.

              Ben started to ask but Mason was ahead of him.

              “Keep your head down.”

              Ben fought the urge to say something.

              Mason and Zima got out and jogged to the tree lines while Stevenson and Rook took their place in the front of the jeep. Ben pulled out his pistol and checked to make sure he knew where the safety latch was. Stevenson caught him looking at it.

              “If you need to use that, then we really fucked up.”

              Rook shook his head at Stevenson. “Keep the gun pointed down, only bring it up if you need to use it.” he said to Ben.

              Ben nodded, and they sat there in silence waiting for ten minutes to pass. Ben couldn’t stop fidgeting and shifting his weight while Rook and Stevenson sat as still as statues. Occasionally Rook would check the scattering of cars with his binoculars.

              “Anything?” Stevenson asked.

              “Negative.”

              The ten minutes seemed to take ten hours.

              “Time.” Stevenson said putting the vehicle into drive.

              The jeep rolled forward slowly and Rook sat up in his seat with his rifle pointed directly ahead. As the blockade came closer, Ben strained his eyes looking for movement but didn’t see anything.

              “Got something.” Rook said calmly.

              Ben looked again and after a few moments saw a woman walk out from behind one of the vehicles. She limped toward the approaching jeep, waiving her arms in the air.

              “She’s hurt!” Ben yelled.

              “She’s bait.” Stevenson said calmly as he stopped the jeep.

              Ben didn’t understand. The woman was hurt and was calling for help but they were just sitting there.

              Rook stood up in the jeep and pointed his gun at the woman. “Stop right where you are.”

              The woman paused and stood alone in the street.

              “Tell your friends to come out from behind the cars, disperse and promise never go do this again and we’ll let them live.” Rook yelled.

              The woman took a few steps back and glanced towards the cars.

              “You have ten seconds to comply.”

              Ben saw Stevenson raise an eyebrow. “Is that from Robocop?”

              Rook smiled. “I owe you a beer once we find a place that still has some.”

              The woman back-pedaled and dove behind the nearest car, and Rook peered down the sights of his rifle. “Here we go.”

              Ben caught sight of movement from a car on the left followed by a single shot from the tree line.

Then all hell broke loose.

Gunfire erupted from both sides of the tree lines towards the collection of cars. He knew that Zima and Mason were there but he couldn’t see them.

              “Stay here!” Stevenson yelled back to Ben.

              Both of the men got out of the jeep and walked slowly towards the cars, looking down the sights of their rifles. A man ran from behind one of the cars and Stevenson’s rifle let loose. Where the man once stood was replaced by a red mist. The woman from earlier popped up from the side of the car and fired a shot, but before she could fire again, Stevenson took her out.

Then, just as suddenly as the gunfire started, it stopped.               Mason and Zima walked out from their respective tree lines still looking down the sights of their guns.

              “We got one still moving at the back!” Mason yelled. “The rest is clear.”

              The men disappeared around the back of the cars, leaving Ben all alone. He climbed out of the jeep and ran towards the car. As he began to pass the first one, he noticed a trail of blood. He stopped and followed the trail to the woman that had been shot. Dirt covered most of her face but Ben could make out her expression, and it was one of terror. He should have felt sick or scared, but instead he felt angry. This woman, these people, were hurting others, at least until Mason’s squad had stopped them. Now the anger was displaced by pride.

The sound of yelling brought him to and he made his way through the mini-maze of cars. In the very back were lawn chairs and a couch with cans of food and ammo strewn about. The people had just been sitting back here waiting for other people to show up. On the ground in the middle of it was one of the men clutching his leg while Mason and the others stood over him.

              “Are there any others?” Mason asked.

              The unkempt man spat at Mason, who didn’t flinch. Ben got closer and saw despite the man clutching his leg tightly, there was still blood steadily dripping out.

              “Listen,” Stevenson said, crouching down beside him. “That thing in your leg? It’s a fucking bullet. A bullet that has apparently nicked an artery because you’re losing a shit load of blood. You have two options. You can continue to pretend to be a hard ass until you’re swimming in your own blood and die in your own shit, or you can give us info and we will do what we can for you. What’s it going to be?”

              The man’s eyes bounced over all of them as he contemplated the over. “How the hell do I know you all won’t off me once I give you information?”

              “Dude, we won’t have to off you. In a minute or two you’re going to bleed out and die on your own.”

              Tears began to well up in the man’s eyes. “I don’t want to fucking die, I didn’t ask for this.” He looked up to Stevenson. “You’ll save me if I give you what you want?”

              “I’ll do what I can for you.” Stevenson said.

              “Alright, fuck. What do you want?”

              “Are there any more of you?” Mason asked.

              “No, not here. We are supposed to come out here and get what we can from people who try to pass through.”

              Zima walked away keeping his eyes on the far side of the road.

              “Were are the others?”

              The man clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything.

              “I wasn’t lying when I told you that you’d bleed out within a minute or two.” Stevenson said.

              “Alright, alright. Follow this road down a couple of miles and you’ll see a sign for a city called Stilwell. There are a bunch of people there and my group provides for them.”

              “By what, stealing from people passing through?” Rook asked.

              “How many?” Mason asked, not giving the man time to answer Rook’s question.

              “I don’t know, twenty or thirty.”

              “Time’s ticking, is it closer to twenty or is it closer to thirty?”

              “Shit man,” the man stammered as his face began to pale. “Probably closer to thirty, I don’t know, I haven’t been counting. I’m starting to feel bad man, you’ve got to do something.”

              Mason nodded towards Stevenson, who took off his backpack and began rummaging through it.

              “How well armed are they?”

              The man laid his head down on the pavement and his words came out slow. “We’ve got a gun store on lock. Assault rifles, bullet proof vests, we’ve got it all.”

              “Alright, last question and we help. Where do they stay?”

              “The industrial district. The ole brick plant. I’m not right man, you’ve got to do something.”

              Mason walked away while Stevenson crouched down next to him, picked up the man’s hand and placed something in it. “Those are three morphine blasts. Take one and it’ll take most of the pain away. Two and you won’t feel a thing. Take all three and you’ll be dead before you bleed out.”

              The man shook his head and tried to sit up. “What? You said you would save me if I gave you information. You can’t do this.”

              “I said I would help,” Stevenson said standing back up. “The moment that bullet hit your femoral artery, you were already dead. That will allow you to enjoy the last few moments of your life.”

              The man’s face was almost completely white now and his eyes hovered about not focusing on anything. “You…can’t…..I…need help.”

              Zima walked back over. “Alright, check the bodies and gather whatever is useful.”

              “Going to Stilwell?” Mason asked.

              “I thought our orders were to rendezvous with Command in Kentucky?” Stevenson asked.

              “It is. Our primary mission is to still to protect the law-abiding citizens of this country.” Zima’s gaze was like ice. “We’ll go to Stilwell and if everything is solid we’ll head out.”

              “And if it’s not?” Ben asked.

              Zima looked over, noticing him for the first time, and his gaze softened. “Then we’ll make it solid.”

Ben

              “You alright?” Mason asked him quietly.

              Ben instinctively glanced over to Rook who was asleep in the seat next to him. Zima and Stevenson sat in the front of the Jeep discussing something. The wind whipping through the Jeep as it drove down the road made it next to impossible for Ben to overhear what they were saying.

              “That was pretty gruesome back there.” Mason said.

              “I’m good,” The sight of the blood still made him a little queasy but his anger had driven it away. “They were bad people, they deserved to die.”

              Mason frowned at him. “That’s a pretty black and white way of looking at things.”

              “What do you mean? You all are supposed to kill people like that.”

              “We are supposed to stop people like that. We had to kill them because they were trying to kill us. We may have to kill the people in this town if they pose a threat but hopefully we can avoid it. If your family was starving, would you do what they were doing?”

              That didn’t make sense. Ben wasn’t a bad person. Those people were probably killing others and stealing from them. Why was Mason trying to defend them?

              “What I’m saying, Ben, is that desperate times bring out the worst in people. There are some people out there that are killing just to kill or stealing just to steal, but there are others doing it to feed their starving family.”

              “Then why did you kill those people back there?”

              “Because they were trying to kill us. We have to try and maintain some sense of order until things are back, but we can’t save the world. We show up with guns, not food. And for most people food is what they need.”

              “People like those back there killed my little brother and my father. They did it because they could, not because they wanted food.”

              “Exactly, those are the ones we have to stop.”

              Ben didn’t understand. “How do you tell the difference?”

              “By giving them a chance. Zima and I were in place for several minutes prior to you all pulling up in the Jeep. We could have taken them out before they could take a single shot but we gave them a chance. Once they opened fire they became a threat. Understand?”

              “Trying to.”

              The Jeep slowed as they entered the city limits. They drove slowly down deserted streets with boarded up buildings until they finally hit a street that was blocked off by several police cars. The police cars’ windows were all busted out and their tires had long since gone flat. Sprouted up all around the vehicle and all throughout the streets were giant tufts of grass, making the road seem more like a field. The street was littered with old brick buildings that used to house a liquor store, an old timey diner, a bank and every other kind of shop Ben imagined a small town would have. It was obvious the stores hadn’t operated since the power went out.

              “Stay sharp.” Zima said as slipped out of the Jeep.

              Ben started to say something to Rook when he looked over and saw the man was already awake; any vestiges of sleep had been discarded when they pulled into the town.

              “Small arms only. We don’t want to freak anyone out.” Mason said to the men, who sat their rifles on their seats.

              Zima kept his eyes on the buildings in front of them. “Rook, you stay with the Jeep. Ben, you take care of Rook. We’ll yell if we need assist.”

              Ben saw Rook merely nod. He watched closely for some sign of anger or annoyance from being left behind, but the man’s beard, along with his dark sunglasses, hid any emotions he may have had.

              A few people came out of the diner and watched them wearily. The people didn’t appear to have weapons or anything else for that matter. Mason and the others made their way towards them.

              “Are they leaving you behind because you’re the rookie?” Ben asked.

              Rook spat on the ground and shook his head. “Nah, this is our only ride and our guns are inside. Can’t let our most valuable items get stolen.”

              “But why you and not Stevenson or Zima?”

              “Why not me?”

              Again Ben looked for any sign of emotion and came up empty. “It just seems like everyone I’ve known doesn’t believe I can do anything.”

              “So your assumption is that I’m staying with the Jeep because they don’t think I’m capable of going with them?”

              Ben shrugged. “Because you’re the rookie.”

              “If I went with them right now and came under fire, I know I could handle it. I’d find cover, find the shooters and work with them as a team to neutralize the threat.”

              “But they won’t give you the chance.” Ben meant it as a question but it came out more as a statement.

              “If I know I can do it why do I need to prove it to them?” Rook asked.

              Ben didn’t know what to say.

              “Let me tell you a little story.” Rook spat on the ground again and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Had a cousin, don’t really remember if he was a first or second cousin, but he was a cousin. Few years younger than me and the rest of the family members I usually hung out with, and he was always trying to prove himself. We used to climb trees at our family get-togethers and there was this one really tall, really old tree that none of us would climb. Well one year he gets it in his head that if he climbs that tree he will show us that how brave he is or some shit.” Rook paused and surveyed something in the distance for a moment. “Well the reason we never climbed that tree was because it was old and the limbs weren’t sturdy. Dumb shit got half-way up and a limb broke.”

              “What happened?” Ben asked.

              “Never walked again. I heard he died right around the time I was getting in high school.”

              “Didn’t you guys warn him about the tree?”

              “More times than I can fucking remember. Thing is, he took our warnings as signs we didn’t think he could do something. The more we would warn him the more he thought we doubted him. He was so busy trying to show that he
could
, he didn’t stop and think if he
should
.”

              Was Ben doing the same thing?

              “You don’t have to prove yourself to anybody.”

              Just then, Mason and the others came walking back towards them.

              “Sounds like we have a group of troublemakers here.” Zima said as he approached.

              “Our intel solid?” Rook asked.

              Mason leaned up against the Jeep. “Sounds that way. Around twenty to thirty holed up in the industrial district. Locals say they don’t really bother them much, from the looks of it that’s probably because they don’t have anything worth taking.”

              “But they got a rep for stealing what little there is and setting up road blocks like the one we just went through.” Zima finished.

              “Aren’t our orders to head to Kentucky?” Stevenson asked.

              Zima raised an eyebrow and looked to him. “Our orders are the same as they’ve ever been. We restore order. This group is disrupting it and once they have been pacified we can move on to our main objective.”

              Stevenson didn’t look happy but he didn’t say anything. The sound of an approaching truck broke up their conversation. Calmly the men grabbed their rifles but kept them hidden alongside the truck. Mason pushed Ben towards the back of the Jeep. Ben didn’t fight.

              The truck pulled up to the diner and stopped. The rumbling of the engine echoed throughout the empty streets. The truck rolled forward towards them until it was about twenty yards away. A single man stepped out. He had an assault rifle slung over his shoulder and a bandanna covering his head.

              “Something you looking for?” he asked.

              “Just passing through.” Mason said.

              The man glanced behind them. “From where?”

              “From back there,” Mason said gesturing behind them. “Don’t worry about that roadblock. We cleared that out for you.”

              Ben could see the man’s jaw clench and he started to lift up his rifle. Before he could even start he had four assault rifles pointed directly at him.

              “I wouldn’t do that, slick.” Zima said.

              “Who…..who the fuck are you all and what do you want?”

              “We’re with the United States government, and we’re here to maintain order.” Zima said matter-of-factly.”

              “The government is dead.”

              “No,” Mason said with a smile. “I can assure you we are alive and well.”

              “Here is what you are going to do, slick,” Zima said stepping forward. “Get in your truck and head back to the brick plant. Tell your group there they have 24 hours to pack their bags and head out of here. We, along with a few of our friends, are going to be passing through here regularly. And if we run into anymore of your roadblocks then we will terminate you with extreme prejudice.”

              “That translates to we’ll blow your fucking heads off.” Stevenson said, looking down the scope of his rifle.

              The man stood there for a few seconds and then quickly got back into his truck. “Fuck that,” he yelled from his truck. “I’m going back and getting the boys. If you all are still here when I get back we’ll blow
your
fucking heads off.”

              “Light him up.” Zima said.

              All four of the men let out a burst from their assault rifles into the truck. The three tires that were visible burst and the man let out a scream but didn’t reach for his gun.

              “Hopefully we’ve made ourselves clear?” Mason asked.

              “Jesus Christ,” the man said as he stumbled out of the truck. He started to reach back in for his gun and Mason let out another burst from his rifle into the truck door.

              “That stays here.”

              The man gave them a look of pure hatred and ran down the street.

              Rook dropped the muzzle of his rifle. “Think that worked?”

              “No way in hell.” Mason said. “We need to pick a building and hole up. If they haven’t cleared out by this time tomorrow, then we’ll start taking them out.”

              “Thirty well-armed men is a lot to take on.” Stevenson said.

              “Thirty
untrained
men.” Zima said. “And we’ll just do it one at a time.”