The Fall of America: Fatal Encounters (Book 2) (17 page)

“It's clear this time.  About a year ago, I had to clear out a nest of pack rats.”

Wood was stacked up against a wall near the front windows, so in a few minutes a small fire was burning.  Removing a Russian ration, which was designed for two people, he opened it and shared it with Margie.

As they ate, she asked, “Why are the Russians making a prison?”

Wiping his mouth off with his hand, John said, “They have a history of locking up those that are criminals, insane, or political enemies of the state.  They'll be treated poorly, fed a starvation diet, and most will die of diseases or firing squads.”

“It sounds rough to me, but how will the resistance react if their families are imprisoned?”

“Well, how do you think they'll take it?”  He took a bite of biscuit and then a bite of goulash.  
This stuff is better than our rations
, more variety anyway, he thought.

“Be hard on a man or woman knowing their family was being treated like that.  But, if you're really asking me will it change anything, then no.  If anything it'll bring more unity to those resisting the Russians.”

“Willy Williams once old me, 'The Russians are a hard people and they only respect brute strength.'  At the time, I thought he'd lost his mind, because he was in the process of burning a Russian to death. Now, after fighting them a few times, ambushing and being ambushed, I realize he was correct.”

“Do you think we'll make an attempt to bust people out?”

Taking a sip of his instant coffee, he looked over the rim of his metal canteen cup and replied, “It all depends on the defenses they have and how it looks.  We've attacked bases, supply depots, small camps and ambushed convoys before, so anything is possible.”

There came a loud crash near the front door and John scooped up his AK-47.  He moved behind some ancient furniture and waited.  Margie moved to the other side of the room and from the firelight, her eyes were huge.  Dolly was ready to lunge, but after a few minutes her ears dropped, and she sat on the floor.

Suddenly John laughed, stood and moved forward.  He was lost for a minute in the darkness and then said, “The door is no longer hanging by a hinge, it's fallen to the porch.”

“I almost filled my pants.”

“I suspected if it had been Russian troops, we'd have known it immediately.  They would have tossed a grenade in and then entered, shooting anything that moved. I've heard other noises while sleeping here, so get used to it.  I think you handled it well.”

Moving back to the fire, she asked, “What do you know of this place?”

He walked to her side, sat and asked, “Do you want the legend or the truth?”

“Both.”

“Well, the legend is ole man Packerman went crazy one night back in 1865, took an ax and hacked his family to death.  That's all a lie.”

“Oh, who killed them then?”

“History tells a different story.  It seems in early 1865, March is as near as I can remember, the South was losing the War of Union Aggression, and Packerman knew it, because he was a full colonel in a cavalry unit.  He disbanded his troops and told them to go home; for them the war was over.  His family, who'd been in Jackson for the duration of the fight, joined him here on his return.  Within a month, Colonel Packerman was dead of an unknown fever and one-by-one his family died in this very house.  The last living relative attempted to get rid of this place, only who wanted a home in the edge of a swamp, where a whole family died mysteriously?”

“I wonder why the house is even here.”

“Packerman was wealthy and had little use for others.  He was a recluse, if you will, and some say the death of his first wife, following childbirth, lead to some strange behavior.  He often sat up all night, in this very room, sipping whiskey and reading his Bible.”

“Did they ever determine what disease killed them?”

“No, not officially, but it could have been malaria, bad water, or a dozen other fevers that a swamp can give a person.  It's important to remember, doctors in those days knew very little real medicine, when compared to today.  They thought illnesses were all related to 'bad blood' so they'd bleed a patient, or blister them, and that surely didn't help. If anything, it made the patient weaker.”

“How do you know all of this stuff?”

John gave a lopsided grin and said, “My great-great-great grandfather was Moses Packerman, on my momma's side. He'd sit in this room, drink whiskey and shout Bible scriptures when angered.  Now, I don't want to make him sound insane, because he wasn't, but he had his ways.  Momma told me after his first wife died, he mourned her death for two years.  Finally, he remarried and I've seen old tintypes of his last wife and she was beautiful.”

“He sounds pretty damned strange to me.”

“Oh, he was at least strange, but he was rich and made his money in shipping, but his cargo was humans, not other goods.  He made his fortune in the slave trade.  You know, I should hate him for that, but I don't.  Over the years I've come to realize his world and my world are totally different.  Now, I'm not saying what he did was right, we both know better than that, but at the time it was legal.  He broke no laws, imported what was in high demand, black humans, and was a respected member of society.”

“I don't like it.”

“I never said I liked it, or respected it, only that he'd broken no laws.  The rich in the South wanted slaves and he had ships he inherited from his father, so, being a smart man, he delivered.  You're thinking with a mind that has been conditioned to think like a modern human being and the social issues, you see, were different back then. I don't think it's fair to judge him using today's standards when they were so very different then.”

Leaning against the wall, Margie said, “God has judged him.”

“I'm sure he has.  Listen, we're going to have to stand guard, one of us anyway, all night.  So, do we do this in three hour watches or a single full six hours?”

“Let's do the full six, because I hate going to sleep knowing I'll have to get up again in a few hours.”

“I'll let you have the first six then.”

“Sounds good to me because they're the easiest.”

“What happened back there in town?”

Margie told her tale as John scratched Dolly's ears.  When she finished, he said, “You're good.  Almost everyone I know would have broke out running, especially after a killing, and that would have sealed your doom.  Also, you didn't go back through the market, which shows you think well under pressure.”

“Do you honestly think I did the right thing?”

“You're alive and here tonight, right?”

“Why don't you get some sleep and I'll move to the front window to keep watch, because I think that's the best spot, right?”

“Yep, wake me at midnight, or when you get tired.  Now, don't fall asleep on me, or you might get both of us killed.  Wake me if you get a strong urge to sleep.  What you did today tired you more than you realize, even if most of it was mental fatigue.  Okay?”

Standing, with John's AK in her hands, she said, “I'll keep that in mind.  Any idea how long we'll be here?”

He laughed and then asked, “Why, do you have a hot date or something?”

“I wish I did, just wondering.”

“We'll see tomorrow.  A lot depends on the Russians and how determined they are to catch us.  They may think you were a common thief, and if that's the case, they'll not spend much time looking for you.  But, by me using a grenade, I think they'll come.”

Suddenly, realizing she'd forgotten something, Margie reached into her pocket and pulled out a poster she'd ripped from the wall of a building as she was leaving Edwards.  Handing it to him she said, “These are all over town.”

John read the poster and then placed it in his shirt pocket. Gazing into Margie's eyes, he said, “This will anger the resistance much more than a prison camp will.  The killing of women and children is something animals would do, not human beings.”

“I didn't know if I should bring one out or not.  I was unsure what they'd do to me if I had one in my possession and they captured me.”

John shrugged and then said, “Hard to say.  I'm going to sleep, so you need to get to the window.  The killing of hostages doesn't bother me personally; all of my family, except for Sandra are already dead.  But, as an American, I dislike it and I'm sure the resistance will move against the Russians hard over this.”

“It's wrong, but I'm a little bug and I'll do what I'm told.  If you need me, I'll be at the window.”  she said and then made her way to the empty room.

As she pulled guard, her mind jumped in all directions, seemingly at the same time.  She'd be thinking about Edwards, then memories of her late husband would jump to the forefront of her thoughts.  She allowed this to happened, just to pass the time.

The wind was howling and screaming now, as rain pounded the old house.  Suddenly, Dolly stood and gave a low growl of warning.

L
ieutenant Colonel Pankov walked around in the middle of the street, where John had killed the Russian troops, cursing.  How could one woman, a starving one, kill this many of his men, or was she really a woman looking for her lost family?  The resistance was made up of both men and women, so she may have very well been spying on the town.  
She was a spy
, he thought,
or where would the grenade have come from?

“How many dead, counting the two in the alley, Sergeant?”

Belonev said, “Ten, counting the two in the alley, sir.”

“They were going to rape her, because the one shot had his penis out.” Durchenko said with disgust.

“Sergeant, what we do to the Americans is not your concern, but finding those responsible for the deaths of our men is, and I want it done quickly.”  A light rain was falling as the new commander spoke.

“Yes, sir.”

“Gather up two squads and go look for them.  I should send more men with you, but we do not have the manpower to do that right now.  I will send helicopter support, one aircraft, and keep the others on alert, in case you run into something big.”

“That should be enough, sir.”  Durchenko said.

“What about me?  Am I to go with the group or stay behind.” Belonev asked.

“Stay, because if something happens, I do not want to lose both of you in a battle.  I need one of you to remain behind.”

“Yes, sir.”

Durchenko said, “I will gather my men and leave now, sir, with your permission.”

Waving the man away with his left hand, the Colonel said, “Go, and good hunting.”

A loud crack of thunder was heard and the rain intensified as Master Sergeant Durchenko organized his men and then walked into the bushes. They left the dog handler behind, due to the rain and it showed no sign of letting up any time soon.  The men were anxious, because the wind blew the long grasses and made the brush sway.

The man on point stopped and when Durchenko neared he asked, “What do you see?”

“There are no tracks, Sergeant.”

“None?”

“Look for yourself.  The rain has washed them all away.”

Pulling out his compass and map, the Sergeant said, “Keep moving east and after a few kilometers we will move north.  I suspect they will move for the swamps.  The area to the north has many swamps and it would be impossible to find them, if they know the swamps well. However, the helicopter may see something from the air.  Hand me the radio.”

Five minutes later, they were moving again and the Sergeant had asked for a helicopter to fly over the swamps.  
Maybe we will get lucky and the pilot will kill them.  If he does, then I can get out of this rain and nurse a bottle for a few hours.  I am too old to be doing this shit
, Durchenko thought.

Pankov said, “While we are out here, let us raid the traders and see what we can find.  Hell, one or more of them may be part of the resistance.  Everyone into the trucks!”

They drove to the market and as they unloaded the truck, Sally slowly made her way from her booth and walked into the wet trees behind her.  The trees used to be a park, but no one had kept it up, so it was overgrown with grasses and trees.  She didn't like being wet, but knew it beat a bullet in the head any day.  She lay down but kept her head up to see what was happening.

Pankov yelled, “Gather all the civilians and place them next to the house across the street. I want three guards on them at all times.  Then, search each booth and look for anything unusual.  If you find anything, bring it to me or call for me.”

The soldiers began to ransack the booths, found nothing in the first few, and then moved to Fred's booth.  All went well for him, until they pulled a plastic container out from under his folding table.  A private opened the container, gave a loud gasp and then stepped back.  Sergeant Belonev moved to the box, looked inside and then said, “Colonel, you need to see this, sir.”

Pankov walked to the booth, glanced inside the container and then asked, “Who owns this booth?”  His English was fair, because he'd attended an English language course as a requirement to become an intelligence officer.

When no one replied, Pankov said, “I will not ask again.  If you do not answer me, I will have all of you shot.”