Desperate Times 2 Gun Control Read online

  They left as they had arrived, like a great flock of steel geese. Jimmy prayed that they weren’t using night vision goggles or some other type of sensor to detect human life on the ground. After what seemed like an eternity, he thought he had his answer. The helicopters continued flying, and after a short while even the sound of their beating rotors had become only a whisper in the night sky.

  A second later, that silence was suddenly broken.

  “Don’t move a muscle,” commanded a deep voice from directly behind Jimmy and Burt.

  “Oh, shit,” muttered Burt.

  “Don’t talk, either,” warned the voice. “Now drop those guns and lay down flat with your arms and legs spread wide. Do you understand me?”

  Jimmy and Burt did as they were told, facing each other with their hands nearly touching. Jimmy wanted to scream with frustration. They had come so close. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the fact that the man had yet to state his business. There was still hope, and Jimmy clung to it like a life vest.

  “Did you get the drop on them?” asked another man’s voice. He seemed to be about twenty feet behind them.

  “I got them,” answered their captor. “What the hell do we do with them?”

  “Are they military?”

  There was a pause as the sounds of crickets returned to their ears. “I doubt it. One of them is just an old guy.”

  “Shoot, why didn’t you say so?” asked the new voice, and there was a sound of crunching twigs as he approached. “Who the hell are you assholes, and why are you out here?”

  “I was getting to that,” said the deep voice.

  The beam of a flashlight suddenly blinded Jimmy, but not before he was able to make out that both of these men were dressed in combat fatigues. Jimmy had no doubt that both men had gone AWOL once the choppers had set down. He couldn’t blame them, and he tried to use it to their advantage. “Are we ever glad to see you,” Jimmy lied. “You’re not going to believe what’s going on around here.”

  “That’s right,” agreed Burt. “There’s some crazy shit goin’ on.”

  “I say we kill ‘em,” said the man who had remained hidden.

  “Go ahead,” said his friend. “I’m not gonna do it. The old dude is a brother.”

  The other man cackled with laughter. “Brother or not, I’m gonna cut his throat. That should get those damn wolves off our trail.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you?” answered the deep voice. “Wolves are afraid of men. We’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  There was the distinct sound of a long blade being pulled from a sheath. “I’m sorry about this, guys. Nothin’ personal.”

  The wolves exploded from the brush with such ferocity that neither soldier had a chance to move. There were three, then four sets of gnashing teeth. Their viscous growls were only matched by the high-pitched screaming of the soldiers. Both men tried to run and were repeatedly attacked as they did so. In the moonlight Jimmy saw one of the men go down in a heap as one of the wolves had grabbed him by the throat and violently twisted him to the ground. The soldier screamed a gurgling cry, but even that was cut short.

  Jimmy and Burt both rolled to their feet and quickly retrieved their weapons. They started running, heading deeper into the blackness of the woods. They had run for a full minute before they noticed that they weren’t alone. A howl pierced the night behind them. That howl was answered quickly by another much closer voice. Jimmy knew they had one chance, and he shouted it to Burt. “We have to climb into the trees!”

  Jimmy dared a look at his friend, and he saw with astonishment that he had not only found a tree to climb, but that he was already nearly five feet off the ground in a stunted pine that had twisted into a misshapen corkscrew. Jimmy put on a burst of speed as he tried to find his own tree to climb.

  The pine was tall and straight, but it had decent limbs that seemed to be within reach. Jimmy flung his rifle to the ground, and he leapt for one of those limbs. The wolf was right on his tail, and as Jimmy grabbed the limb, the wolf caught hold of the leg of his jeans. Jimmy hung suspended in the air while the wolf thrashed angrily at his ankles. The animal was heavy, and it would have pulled him down to his death, had not the jeans material torn. The animal howled with rage, but Jimmy was already scrambling up the limbs of his tree.

  Jimmy’s hands were sticky with sap, and his cheek was badly scraped, but he was alive. He found a good limb to perch on, and he caught his breath, watching the shadows as they angrily slunk around below him. He wondered about the wolves. Doc must’ve been right—the woods had been hunted out and the only thing left to hunt was man. Jimmy hoped that they had enjoyed the two soldiers. He then thought about the helicopters and what all of that meant. Jimmy feared that they would find Utopia as empty as Ely had been.

  Jimmy dozed off and on, and all too soon the early birds were calling as the sky took on the purplish color of morning. The sound of screaming men as they were ripped apart was still fresh in his ears, and Jimmy found that he was still too afraid to move. He scanned underneath his tree, but there seemed to be no sign of the wolves. The woods hung suspended between night and day, and what little light there was wasn’t enough for him to distinguish a stump from the body of a wolf. Jimmy decided to wait until he could safely do so.

  “Jimmy?” called Burt’s booming voice from somewhere in the softening gloom. “Are you out there?”

  Jimmy smiled to himself and shook his head. “I’m up here!”

  A moment later he was staring down at Burt. “You can get down now, the wolves are gone.”

  “I must’ve dozed off,” said Jimmy.

  “Sure.”

  Jimmy climbed down, and Burt handed him his rifle. Jimmy blindly wiped the pine needles from the stock and checked the barrel with the tip of his finger. “That was something you don’t see every day.”

  “Thank God for that,” Burt said. “How far do you think it is from here?”

  “Maybe a mile or two, but not much further than that. Don’t you think we should wait a little while longer? I’d kinda like to see what we’re up against.”

  “No, this is the time to strike, while everyone is sleeping.”

  Jimmy slung the M-16 over his shoulder. “If anyone is even still there,” he said, praying he was wrong.

  Burt chuckled. “Don’t worry, Jimmy. I’m pretty sure they’re still there. I’ve been thinking about that, and it came to me when I was up in that sticky damn tree. I’ll explain later. Let’s move.”

  They set out across the woods and found the road ten minutes later. Things were a little brighter on the open road, and they walked quickly to make up for lost time. Jimmy held his rifle at the ready, his senses on high alert. He stole a glance at Burt and saw that he was also ready for action. Last night had taught them a serious lesson about being careful. The sky had turned from purple to red and was now nearly orange. Brilliant sunbeams shone on puffy white clouds, making heaven seem just a little closer.

  “Hey, Jimmy!” shouted a familiar voice from the woods.

  Jimmy and Burt both turned and leveled their rifles in that direction. Jimmy’s heart pounded in his chest, and his throat felt full of sand.

  “Don’t shoot us, you damn fools!” Doc said, stumbling out of the woods.

  Jimmy and Burt quickly raised the barrels of their assault rifles and exchanged a look of shock. Doc, wearing a pair of Bermuda shorts and a white shirt, was fifty feet away and walking with his hands high in the air. Behind him was Bill.

  Doc quickly explained their situation. Bill had stopped to see Doc at the clinic about his back pain when they heard the first helicopter. They began to run when they saw the sky fill with them. With Doc leading the way, they ran into the woods and hadn’t stopped until they were over a mile away. “If it wasn’t for the damn mosquitoes, I might have even got some sleep,” he said, scratching at the numerous bites on his bare arms and legs.

  “So, you have no idea of what we can expect back there.”
said Jimmy. “What do you think, Doc?”

  “I really don’t know what to make of it. They were there an awful long time, and I didn’t hear a single gunshot. I thought that was a good sign.”

  “What you got to eat?” asked Bill, eyeing Jimmy’s backpack.

  Jimmy shook his head and stripped off his pack and handed it to Bill. When Bill reached for the canteen, Doc immediately snatched it away from him and took a long drink before handing it off. Jimmy then told them about what Patty had done, with Burt filling in the bare spots of the story. Doc looked as if someone had drained the blood from his face.

  Bill handed Doc an apple which he gratefully accepted. “Alzheimer’s,” he said, holding the apple in front of his tired eyes. “Or some other form of dementia. Poor Ken, poor Patty! That’s just horrible.”

  Jimmy agreed. “Like we said, Ken is really hoping you’ll come back and take a look at her.”

  “By all means,” Doc said. “Let’s get moving!”

  “Wait,” said Jimmy. “We’ve got to go back for Julie and Cindy. We can’t just leave them there.”

  “I think they escaped,” said Bill.

  “Why’s that?” asked Jimmy. “Did you see any sign of them? Do you know where they are?”

  “No, I just think that they could have got away, that’s all. We were able to do it.”

  Jimmy gritted his teeth but said nothing.

  “Look, you do whatever you want,” said Doc. “I’m not going back until I have a look at Patty. This is serious; she may have had a stroke.” He then took a bite of his apple, turned, and started walking up the red gravel road.

  “Shit,” said Burt. “We can’t let him go alone. What about the wolves?”

  “I’ll be fine!”

  “The wolves will eat you,” said Bill. “You wouldn’t catch me dead out there.”

  “Will you at least take a gun?” asked Jimmy.

  “I don’t believe in them,” Doc called back over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me!”

  Jimmy pushed Burt in the back. “Go,” he said. “I’ll take Bill and find the girls. You make sure Doc gets back to Ken’s.”

  “I’m sorry, Jimmy. You’re right. We can’t let him walk back alone. Good luck.”

  Jimmy smiled and shook his head. “Thanks,” he said.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’m going to have to listen to his liberal-assed bullshit all morning.”

  “He sometimes makes a lot of sense.”

  “That’s what scares me about him,” Burt said, sticking out his right hand. “I’m serious—be careful. Check it out and get back to Ken’s. We can go in tonight.”

  Jimmy nodded his head slowly, and the two men shook hands. Bill quickly stuck his hand into the mix which broke the moment and sent Burt on his way.

  Bill took Jimmy’s hand and pumped it twice. “We can do it, brother,” he said. “Give me a gun, will ya?”

  Jimmy stared over Bill’s shoulder as Burt caught up with Doc. He couldn’t help but be a little envious of him.

  “So,” Bill said. “What are

  we doing, anyhow?”

  Chapter 8

  They walked along the road in silence, and about a quarter mile from the front gate they began to travel cross country through the woods. The morning sun was still just below the trees, and they jogged in the dingy light. This was the first time that Jimmy had ever seen Bill actually run. He thought about it, deciding that Bill’s fear of wolves was a powerful motivator. Jimmy thought it was worth remembering.

  Jimmy watched the gate and the little bus-stop shelter for nearly ten minutes. One thing seemed certain: there were no soldiers here. They would be guarding that gate. There would be a checkpoint, just like there had been in Ely. “There’s no one up there,” he whispered to Bill who stood gasping for air with his back against the tree next to him.

  “Are… you sure?”

  “Sure enough.”

  “I don’t like it, man... I say we wait out here and watch the gate for a few hours… They might have tanks in there.”

  “Tanks? Are you kidding me? Listen, I didn’t want to scare you, but we’ve got at least a dozen wolves on our trail. Can’t you hear them?”

  “I can’t hear anything… but my own breathing.”

  Jimmy gave a startled look over Bill’s shoulder and then spun and sprinted for the gate. He ran for nearly fifty yards before he risked a look back at Bill. He needn’t have looked, for Bill was hot on his heels and perhaps even gaining on him. Jimmy ran up to the gate and stole a look into the bus shelter. There was no one there. This sent him a mixed message, and he tried to block it out. Where was everyone?

  He ran another two hundred yards inside the compound and took refuge behind a covered fishing boat on a twin-axle trailer that was parked in a little spur that led into the woods. Bill fell in right behind him. Jimmy looked at him and wanted to laugh. Bill had taken on a greenish color. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open, and it made him look like a mounted bass. He held his hands up for Jimmy to stop. This was also as Jimmy had planned it. “Wait right here,” Jimmy said. “I’m going to go in for a closer look.”

  Bill rapidly shook his head as he fought for air.

  “I wasn’t even running,” Jimmy lied. He then began to unstrap the back corner of the boat cover. “Climb up into the boat, and I’ll be back here before you know it. You’ll be safe in there.”

  Bill looked at the boat and then back into the woods. He leaned over and put his hands on his knees and nodded his head. Jimmy had known that he would only take Bill so far. He didn’t want to feel responsible for getting him killed, nor did he want Bill to get the both of them killed. He thought with any luck he just might live to talk about the day’s events. Bill, winded and panting, climbed into the back of the boat with a thud. Jimmy refastened a few of the straps and once again set out running.

  The gravel road wound around to the back of the property before it made a switchback and wound up in the middle of the compound. Jimmy followed it halfway and then turned and cut cross country. The woods there fell away into a deep ravine, and Jimmy’s feet fell silently on countless generations of pine needles. The other side of the ravine was steep and rocky in places. Jimmy need to stop three times to climb when he could run no further. Now it was his turn to be tired. Jimmy pushed himself to the top of the rise and nearly stumbled out onto the road, right into the quiet camp. He ducked for cover and waited while he fought to catch his breath.

  With his heart in his throat, Jimmy peered up above the knoll. He could see the lodge and the mess hall from here, along with a number of cabins on the placid lake. There were people milling around the kitchen entrance to the mess hall. Upon closer inspection, Jimmy recognized them as his former co-workers. The man-child appeared to be checking the kitchen door every thirty seconds while the old women rattled on about something or other.

  Jimmy squatted back down and thought about this. There had been survivors inside the camp. Maybe it really was true, he thought. Maybe they had some type of special permission to stay here from the National Guard. How else could he explain those people up by the kitchen? Jimmy made a quick decision. He took off his backpack and stashed it and his rifle behind the knoll. He covered them with a layer of pine needles, but only enough to partially conceal them in case he needed that rifle in a hurry. He did the same with the holster, opting to carry the .38 Smith & Wesson in the small of his back, with his shirt hanging over it. He then slipped up onto the road and casually strolled toward the kitchen.

  The women completely ignored him, and Jimmy passed them without uttering a sound. He thought if he was going to get any information, it would be out of the young man. He wished he remembered his name. He stared curiously at Jimmy as he approached and quickly spun around and tried the kitchen door again. “Merlin must have forgotten to set his alarm clock,” said Jimmy.

  The young man looked completely lost and on the ve
rge of tears. His t-shirt was on backwards and inside out with the tag hanging under his chin. Jimmy wondered what had happened to the man’s family. He decided to keep walking around to the side of the mess hall. He’d hoped to get a few words out of someone, but he saw that was unlikely to happen anytime soon. The windows were still dark, and Jimmy pressed his face to the glass to see if anyone was inside. What he saw made him gasp.

  The mess hall was a complete disaster. There were glasses and empty bottles and cans strewn from one end to the other. Peanut shells littered the floor and tables which had been moved away from the center of the room. Balloons drooped like tumors from the majestic beamed ceiling. Hand-painted signs had been posted on the walls. Welcome Home, Troops! Jimmy shook his head, but suddenly everything became clear to him. Mars had played his hand brilliantly. He had seen the end and had known what to expect. He decided to support the military effort and created Utopia—home to nearly two hundred homeless college girls—deep in the Minnesota wilderness. As much as Jimmy hated to admit it, he could see value in that.