The Myriad Resistance (32 page)

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Authors: John D. Mimms

BOOK: The Myriad Resistance
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I paused for a moment, thinking it was an animal, perhaps a deer. I was about to start walking again when I saw it a second time. A dark, mysterious form was moving about from tree to tree. I screwed up my eyes and peered into the darkness. An instant later I saw more forms approaching from behind the first.

“It's a military patrol and I have been spotted,” I thought to myself. Before I could begin my sprint back to the vehicle, a voice called out to me in a hoarse shout.

“Major Garrison, is that you?” a man called in a hoarse whisper.

I stopped and stared in disbelief, I recognized the voice of Dr. Winder. I almost forgot he was back at camp too.

“Dr. Winder?” I confirmed.

“Yes,” he said, stepping a little closer. “Is it safe to come out?”

“Yes!” I called back with excitement and motioned with my hand for him to come forward.

A moment later, Dr. Winder emerged from the woods and into the ethereal nighttime light. Three more people who stepped out behind him as he crossed the road followed him. My heart leapt when I saw Barbara, Abbs and Sally. I was so overjoyed to see them; I didn't notice the absence of one of my own children.

Dr. Winder shook my hand. It was my shortest handshake in history because I was anxious to get to my family.

“Burt is over there,” I said motioning with my head to the SUV as I rushed over to embrace Barbara.

We hugged so tight that I might have smothered her. She didn't seem to mind as she kissed me numerous times on my ear and cheek. I looked over her shoulder at Abbs who was watching us with a sad expression on her face. I released my grip a little to reach out to Abbs and bring her into our embrace when Barbara grabbed my arm to stop me. It bewildered me because she would not meet my gaze. Finally, she looked up at me with tears brimming in her eyes.

“Abbs has something to show you,” she said, then stepped away, leaving Abbs and me standing a few feet apart.

Abbs stood perfectly still with a quivering lip and mournful eyes. After a few moments, she held out her hand to me with her fist closed and palm facing down as if she wanted to hand something to me. I held out my hand with my palm up and an instant later, I felt a couple of metallic objects drop into my hand. I recognized these smooth cylinders without seeing them. I handled enough of them in the past twenty-four hours. My oldest daughter began to glow with the shimmering luminescence of an Impal.

CHAPTER 29

THE TURNCOAT

“Perhaps we have been misguided into taking too much responsibility from our children, leaving them too little room for discovery.”

~Helen Hays

I almost dropped the batteries on the ground when I saw the radiant form of my daughter. Internal conflict paralyzed me for several moments; I was happy to see Abbs, but not like this … this was not supposed to happen. I failed my family; I failed them miserably and now here was my punishment.

Nevertheless, as she stood in front of me in her shimmering translucent form, she had never seemed as tangible as she did now. I felt as if I was seeing her for the first time. My shock and heartache began to dissolve, giving way to my unconditional love for my daughter. When I reached out to embrace her, she stepped backward like a frightened rabbit. Gazing in her eyes, I whispered. “It's okay, Abbs. I love you.”

She began to cry. Shining tears streamed from her cheeks like falling stars disappearing into the ground below. She stepped forward and I pulled her in, preparing myself for the freezing cold shock. It only lasted an instant. As I pulled my daughter closer, I started to feel a sensation described to me by Thomas Pendleton, the pleasant warm and cold of a hot fudge sundae. I had made incidental contact with Impals on numerous occasions, never like this, not this close and intimate. As I pulled Abbs closer, I could feel her passing into me as the cold dissipated, giving way to warmth. It was the most perfect warmth I have ever felt, almost as if our souls touched. I guess in a way they were.

My head swam with a thousand questions. I decided they could wait for the moment. When my daughter was comforted, I would talk in private with Barbara. The biggest question was where Steff was. After several long moments, Abbs and I pulled apart. I told her that I loved her again. She smiled and picked up her batteries. Abbs then walked over to join Dr. Winder who was standing on the far side of the clearing. Everyone respected Burt and Sally's privacy in the SUV.

“Where's Steff?” I whispered to Barbara as soon as Abbs reached Dr. Winder.

“I don't know,” she said with such hollow despair, it almost paralyzed me. “She ran off again last night, but this was the first time she ever did it after dark.”

“Where?” I asked.

“If I knew that, we would have her right now, wouldn't we?” Barbara snapped. She then gasped and said, “I'm sorry.”

I shook my head. I knew she was right, and I knew it was a stupid question. “Tell me what you know,” I said in a quiet and soothing voice.

Barbara took a deep breath and tears began to stream down her cheeks. In spite of that, she managed to give me a thumbnail sketch of the night's events.

A short time after we left with the Impals, Steff disappeared from the mess hall. They had been sitting there with Sally and Dr. Winder playing a game of Gin Rummy. They went outside and began to call for her. After thirty minutes of shouting her name and checking cabins, they began to get truly worried.

Taylor heard them calling from his guard post in the woods and came down to join the search. After a brief discussion, they agreed to split up into two groups. Taylor and Abbs went in one group and Barbara, Dr. Winder and Sally in the other.

“We must have searched for at least an hour,” Barbara sputtered as she wiped her eyes. “That was when it happened.”

I waited with patience and let Barbara tell me in her own time about how they heard several heavy vehicles approaching up the road. A minute later, the woods were flooded with lights as the trucks approached along with several soldiers on foot.

“We were almost on the other side of the lake when they arrived,” Barbara said. “Taylor and Abbs were trapped. They fired on them without warning,” she said in a dry voice, then began to cough.

I pulled her close and patted her back until the coughing subsided.

“The soldiers killed them,” she whispered. “I know because I saw them, saw them standing there with their bodies on the ground. Taylor, he—,” Barbara trailed off and looked over at Abbs, who was talking with Dr. Winder. She then turned back to me, her eyes swollen and miserable.

“Taylor … he charged the soldiers giving Abbs time to run away. She grabbed the flashlight she dropped and ran toward us. Thank God she did because she managed to get the batteries out before they could catch up to her. She hid in the God-awful, dark lake almost the whole night while they searched the woods for her.”

“Where did you go?” I asked.

“We tried to get up on the hillside where you found Chester's grave, but it was so damned dark. We couldn't turn our flashlights on. Sally fell into a small rock cave. It was just big enough for all of us to fit in. We waited there the whole night, watching the soldiers pass by a few feet away. Right before dawn, I managed to slip down to the lake to get Abbs and bring her back to us. We stayed in the cave all day watching the soldiers continue to search. When it seemed they had given up, we came here as fast as we could.”

“Jesus,” I said and pulled her close. “I'm so sorry, honey.”

She cried into my shoulder for a long time.

“I don't know where Steff is,” she finally said.

We were startled to hear Burt's voice beside us.

“Cecil, I think you might want to hear this. The general is about to be on the radio with an important announcement,” he said.

I was thankful he did not say my father would be on the radio; my hatred of the man had grown beyond belief in the past twenty-four hours. It was about to grow even more.

We managed to pack everyone in the SUV. Dr. Winder sat in the back with Burt and Sally, while Abbs sat between Barbara and me.

There was a public-service announcement playing. It advertised the bounty for Impals was now one-thousand dollars a head. Now people had even more of a reason to go out and kill their neighbor. It seemed that law and order was now even more barbaric than the Wild West. To make matters worse, immunity was granted for anyone handing over Impals. I saw no method to this madness, just a blatant disregard for morality and, even more so, sanity. The hypocrisy of the self-righteous had thrown my family into chaos, not to mention the world.

A few moments later, the radio announcer came on.

“We have some breaking news to report this evening,” he said with excited anticipation in his voice. “We have none other than the illustrious General Ott Garrison with us to discuss this amazing turn of events.”

“Illustrious?” I thought to myself. He might as well have said the great and benevolent Royal Highness, Supreme Leader and Grand Poohbah. After all, he was those things to some people even if not in name. To many he was a savior, sent by God to rid us of a sudden demonic infestation. I could tell the announcer was definitely in that camp. I was of the opinion that the general was a malignant hemorrhoid on the butt of the Statue of Liberty. He needed to be stopped at any cost, father be damned.

“Thank you for having me on tonight, Jack,” my father's arrogant voice boomed.

As if he had any choice.

“So, I understand you made a huge breakthrough today in the case of your son?” the announcer asked.

My spine stiffened as I exchanged glances with Barbara. I then turned to Burt who stared straight ahead. Abbs put her head on my shoulder and I found the warm and cold strangely comforting.

“Yes, indeed,” he said. “I got an anonymous tip where they were hiding a cave full of demons.”

I felt as if the fires of hell bloomed red hot in my belly. We all had the same questions.
“Who the hell was the informant?”

“So you investigated this tip, I presume?” the host asked, excitement mounting in his voice.

“That we did Jack.”

“Any arrests?”

“Well, yes and no,” the general said. “All of the rebels defending the camp were killed in the raid. The demons trying to imitate the souls of the fallen were taken into custody.”

“How many?” the announcer asked.

“Oh, about a dozen or so.”

“I understand, general,” the announcer said in a solemn tone. “That you suffered a devastating loss today.”

My father paused for several moments as a few sniffs could be heard, and then he spoke in a quivering voice.

“My oldest granddaughter was there. She was gunned down by the reckless gunfire of the rebels. They shot her after numerous requests to stand down. I think they did it to spite me,” he said with heavy emotion in his voice. He sounded as if he might cry.

“So … she was murdered by the Impal sympathizers,” the announcer offered.

“Yes,” he said, his voice breaking. The crocodile tears were making me ill.

Abbs shut her eyes tight. She was trying to block the whole world out. She was not succeeding. Tears dropped onto my arm leaving no trace except for a warm sensation like sparks passing through my body. I glanced at Barbara and saw fury blazing in her features. I have never seen my beautiful wife this angry and I shared her wrath. I think we could both tear the man apart with our bare hands and then beat his resulting Impal senseless with iron bars. Was the Tesla Gate a harsh sentence? Perhaps not for some.

“What about your son?” the announcer asked.

“The coward ran away, leaving his daughters behind. I am ashamed to call him my son for more reasons than one. I will never call that cowardly demonic sympathizer son again,” he said. His voice was forceful and angry. For an instant, he exposed himself. He forgot he was supposed to be putting on an emotional show.

“I'll never call you father again you lying, murdering, sociopathic zealot,” I thought.

“He took the Impals he was harboring with him?” the announcer asked.

“Yes, but we'll find them. It's just a matter of time.”

“The hell you will,” I muttered. Our refugees should be in International waters right now and steaming straight for the English Channel.

“General Garrison, in spite of the tragedy you endured today, there was also a bright spot that came out of this. Am I right?”

“Yes, indeed,” the general piped up, sounding chipper.

“Would you care to elaborate?” the announcer said, almost giddy with excitement.

“Well, Jack … I think I can do better than that!” he beamed. “I can introduce you to the brave soul who tipped us off today.”

Burt and I exchanged glances as we prepared to hear the identity of this traitorous person. My jaw clenched as I listened to the shuffling noise in the background while someone entered the studio.

We listened for several moments while the microphone remained open. Shuffling and whispers rustled in the background. Finally, the host cleared his throat.

“Well, we do indeed have a special guest here tonight,” he said. “And what is your name?” he asked, sounding a little too joyous.

The general interrupted.

“Jack, I would like to make this introduction if you don't mind.”

“Of course, General Garrison … the mike is yours.”

The general cleared his throat and smacked his lips as he sipped on a beverage.

“Jack, it is my great honor to introduce someone who is not only a great human being, they are a true patriot as well. Someone who risked all to do what they believed was the right thing. After they escaped the clutches of the rebels, they called in the report.”

I didn't need to hear anymore, I knew who the person was. The realization of the informant's identity sank over me like a dark fog of horror. Was it some sort of psychic insight that told me the identity of this person? No, it was the familiar cough and clearing of the throat that gave it away.

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