C.O.T.V.H. (Book 2): Judgment (13 page)

He turned on the lights and jumped when he saw Jake’s pale, sweat glistening face staring at him.  “Damn Bishop!” he yelled out.  “You look like shit.”

Jake shook uncontrollably as a heavy fever coursed through his body.  Buck gave him a cursory look before coming over to his bunk. “You all right man?” he leaned down next to him.  “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Jake coughed pulling the covers up then shook his head no.  “Buck . . . Buck . . . listen to me there’s something out there.”

“What?” Buck asked his eyes narrowing in concern.  “What did you see?  Vampires?”

Again, Jake shook his head no.  “Hair.  Lots of hair,” he muttered.  “Hair everywhere.”

Buck laid his hand on Jake’s forehead then withdrew it shaking his head.  “Damn Bishop, you're burning up.” 

Chris and Donnie came into the room bundled up in their coats.  Both stopped in their tracks when they saw Buck standing so close to Jake.  “Hey guys . . . what’s up?”  Donnie asked then blew into his hands.

“Morris, go get Smart,” Buck said, walking over to the stove and lighting a fire to warm the room.  “Bishop needs a doctor.  He’s burning up with fever.”

“What?  Oh man . . .” Chris said, “I’ll be back in two seconds!” he headed out the door at a run.

“Jake?  You okay buddy?” Donnie asked sitting on the end of his bunk.

“They were huge!” Jake said, shaking.  “Donnie, you have to tell everyone . . . they’re out there!”

“What’s he talking about?” Donnie looked over at Buck.

“How should I know?”  Buck shrugged.  “At first I thought he was talking about vamps, but hell Donnie he’s got a fever of like a hundred and twenty!  He’s probably hallucinating.”

A few minutes later Chris returned with Lt. Smart.

“Hey Jake,” the ex Navy Seal said, setting a med kit on the bed next to him.  “How are you feeling?”

“Cold,” Jake said, then coughed rigorously.

“Well that doesn’t sound good,” Smart said, lifting a stethoscope from his bag.  “How about you breathe deep for me?”  He looked at the axe and gave Jake a funny look.  “You know you don’t have to literally hold onto this at all times.”  He tried pulling it loose but Jake still wouldn’t let go.  “Come on kid, let go of the axe.”  He yanked it free then placed the cold metal up against Jake’s chest and listened to his breathing.  After a minute, he pulled the stethoscope from around his ears and draped it over his neck.  “Well Jake, I’ve got good news and bad.  The good is you won’t be running The Playground any time soon.  The bad is that we need to get you to the ER.  I think you might have pneumonia.  Tell me, how long have you had the cough?”

“About a week.” Jake said weakly.

Smart shook his head, “And you’ve been out in this cold running that course the whole time?”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded.

Smart sighed.  “Alright bud.  Let’s get you to the ER.”

Donnie leaned forward and whispered in Smart’s right ear.  “LT, can I talk to you for a minute?”  Smart nodded then patted Jake on the shoulder before stepping several feet away.

Barely above a whisper Donnie said, “LT, I think he’s been hallucinating as well.  When I came in, he was talking about big . . . uh . . . somethings outside.  He wanted me to warn everyone.”

“He said they had lots of hair,” Buck added.

“That’s not good.”  Smart furrowed his brow in concern.  “Alright.  I’m going to go warm up the truck and take him into town.  I hate to say it, but this might be the end of his training.  He’s already fallen further behind than the rest of the group and it’s going to take him at least a couple of weeks to completely recuperate from this.”

“Come on LT,” Buck said, crossing his arms.  “That‘s not right.”

“Turner I thought you didn’t like Bishop,” Smart said, with a skeptical eye.  “What's with the concern?”

“I never said I liked him,” Buck shrugged.  “I’m just saying it’s not right for him to get booted over something he can’t control.  People get sick.  It could just as easily have been me or Donnie, or Morris.  Hell I’m surprised it’s
not
Morris!”  Chris rolled his eyes flipping Buck the finger.  “Seriously though, the way Ortega’s been working us it’s a miracle we aren’t all laid up in bed.”

“Okay.  I’ll talk it over with the Sergeant Major after I get back and see what he thinks.  But odds are he’s going home after this.  He just hasn’t been meeting expectations.”

“That’s because he’s been sick!” Donnie argued.  “I’m sorry LT, but he deserves better than to be tossed to the curb just because he had a couple of bad weeks.”

“Like I said, we’ll see,” Smart nodded then stepped back over to Jake’s bedside.  “Alright kid, I’ll be back in just a few.”

Jake closed his eyes tight seeing the hairy creatures in his dreams.  Creatures he’d seen once before . . . in Georgia.

Georgia. 
Jake thought as he came to in a hospital bed. 
I saw the same thing when Nathan saved me from Macro.  I thought then I was crazy too.  It can’t be a coincidence.  It just can’t be.

For the next two days Jake remained in the hospital with an IV in his arm and nurses coming in at all hours of the night and day to check his temperature, or blood pressure. 

After exiting the hospital, he was under doctor’s orders not to do any strenuous activities for the next two to three weeks.  Ortega had instantly wanted him gone; only Lt. Smart speaking on his behalf had saved him from being sent home.

Jake lay alone on his bunk, tossing a tennis ball up against the ceiling.  The rest of the team was out running courses again and didn’t break for lunch for another couple of hours.  For the first time in weeks, the weather had warmed up to a balmy seventy-eight degrees.

Alone with his thoughts Jake couldn’t stop thinking about the three creatures he had seen.  Had they been real or just feverish delusions?  He tossed his faded green tennis ball against the ceiling again.

“Bishop!” Sergeant Castle’s voice yelled from the doorway.

“Yes Sergeant Major!” Jake said, just before the ball hit him in the head.  Ignoring it, he jumped to his feet.  Sergeant Major Castle leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.  “Making good use of your down time I see.  You aren’t filling me with a lot of hope son.  You should have your head in a book, or be stripping a weapon.  Something to let me know that you
want
to be here.  Not lying on your ass wasting time,” he turned and walked out of the room.  “Pack your bags son.  You’re going home.”

“But Sergeant Major!” Jake said, panic settling into his stomach.  “I don’t want to go home!  I want to do my part!”

“Yeah?” Castle said, turning.  “Prove it.  You’ve got twenty-four hours to prove that you want to be here, that you can add something valuable to this team.  But it better be something good son, I’m talking blowing my socks off good.”

“But . . . but . . .” Jake stammered.

“Twenty four hours!” Castle said, and then walked away.

For the next hour Jake racked his brain.  What could he
possibly do that would convince them he was worth their time?  That would let the others know he was serious.  Again and again, the hairy creatures returned to the forefront of his thoughts. 

Georgia
. . .
Nathan!
The name suddenly popped into his head. 
Nathan Bishop! 
Billy had contacted him but there hadn’t been any developments with getting them to join the Coalition. 
Maybe . . . just maybe!
  Jake thought.  Taking off at a fast trot he made it to the Williams’ residence unseen.  Unfortunately, they weren’t home and probably wouldn’t be for another two months, but Jake had the distinct feeling that if this worked out Billy wouldn’t mind the intrusion into their home.
 

Opening the unlocked back door, he stepped in and headed straight for Billy’s office.  The room was very large with a huge executive desk sitting in the middle of it.  It was surrounded on all sides by pictures of family and friends.

The large desk was covered in various newspapers from major cities around the country.  Each one mentioned disappearances, or missing persons.  Jake dug through them until finding Billy’s Rolodex buried beneath it all.  He quickly scanned through it looking for Nathan’s number.  There it sat, under Bishop right after his grandpa’s number.  Jake picked up the white cordless phone and dialed the number.  It rang and rang until finally a man’s voice answered.  “Tear Drop Inn, this is Joe.”

“Uh . . .” Jake said, uncertainly.

“Hello?”

“Uh . . . yes sir.  I don’t know if you remember me but my name is Jake Bishop.  I stayed at your, um, establishment a few years back.”

“Bishop?  Oh yeah!  The kid with the broken arm!  Nathan’s nephew!  Hell yeah son, I remember you!  What can I do for you?”

“Well sir, you see I’m trying to get a hold of uh, Uncle Nathan . . .”
who am I to argue with that?
“And this is the only number I have for him.”

“Okay then, well, he’s not here at the moment but I could have him call you in the next day or so.”

“It’s a bit of a family emergency sir, is there another number I can reach him from?”

“No this is the only one.  He don’t have a phone out at his place.  Tell you what, I’ll send someone up there to get a hold of him and have him call you back later tonight.  Would that be alright?”

“Yes sir!  That would be great!” Jake said, enthusiastically.  “Could you have him call me say around, 7 or 8pm?”

“Uh . . . well I guess that would be okay,”  Joe said uncertainly.

Jake gave him the number with hope swelling in his chest. 
This just might work!
 

Joe scribbled down the number.  “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No sir,” Jake said happily.  “Sir, thank you.  You have no idea how important this is.”

“Not a problem son, and call me Joe.  Everyone does.”

“Yes sir, I mean Joe.”

“Alright kid,” he chuckled.  “Talk to you later then.”

Jake was so happy as he hung up the phone he hadn’t even heard Ortega walk into the room behind him.  “Well, well, not so sick after all are we?” he said, scowling.

“I’m sorry Drill Sergeant I just had a very important phone call I
needed
to make.”

“Uh huh.  Calling your papa, I bet.  But he’s not gonna save your ass this time.  You’re done Bishop.  After breaking into the Williams’ house Castle will have to let you go.”

“
Breaking in?”
Jake said, genuinely shocked.  “I wasn’t breaking . . .”
What is up with this asshole!
He thought to himself shaking his head.
  ‘Enough already!
  “Ortega, man why do you have it out for me so bad?  I’ve never done anything to you.”

Ortega stepped forward and backhanded Jake across the face drawing blood from his lower lip.  “That’s Drill Sergeant Ortega you little pendejo!  Show some respect.”

While his mind stood in shock, his body remembered a promise he’d made to himself years before when his grandfather’s butler had hit him one time too many.  He flew into action using what skills he’d learned from Sergeant Lucas’ training.  His first punch made contact with Ortega’s nose.  The big man stumbled backwards grabbing his face.

“Don’t you
ever
lay your hands on me again!” Jake yelled.  “I don’t give a shit who you are!  No one lays hands on me!” Jake yelled violently his fists shaking.

“Ah.” Ortega said, shaking his head to clear his vision.  “The pup shows his claws!  Maybe you aren’t a pussy like your old man after all.”

“At least he’s not a burnt out piece of shit that gets off on beating up on kids!”  Jake screamed.

“Alright Bishop!  Let’s see what you’ve
really
got!”  He came at Jake with a speed he was totally unprepared for.  Before he knew what had happened his legs were knocked out from under him and an army boot was pressed firmly on his throat cutting off his oxygen.

“Ortega!  Get off him!”  A voice sounded from the doorway.  It was just the distraction Jake needed; he grabbed hold of Ortega’s leg and swung his own leg around it knocking him to the ground.  Using the desk for leverage, Jake climbed to his feet, then took several steps back using it as a barrier between himself and the very pissed off Drill Sergeant.

“I’m gonna rip your head off you little bastard!  I’m gonna make you wish you’d never been born!”

“Back off Ortega!”  The voice from the door said, “one more move and I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life shitting in a bag!”

Jake’s mind finally focused in on the voice and to his utter amazement found it was Buck.  And he was holding a very large metal lance.  “Buck!” he exclaimed.

“Get out of here Bishop!  Go get Smart or Castle!  Tell them what happened!”

Ortega snatched the lance from Buck’s hands in one swift movement knocking him to the floor.  He put the tip up to Buck’s chest and snarled in anger.  Jake leapt onto his back and wrapped his arms tightly around his throat putting him in a sleeper hold.  Dropping the lance, Ortega clawed frantically at Jake arms, trying to pry him loose.  “Buck!  Go!”  Jake screamed.  The muscles in his arms, toned from hours of cutting wood, strained tightly as he cut off the man’s oxygen.

Buck didn’t need to be told twice, he immediately ran outside to get help.  Ortega slammed him again and again into the wall of Billy’s office, knocking pictures down.  But Jake wouldn’t let go.  “You’re worthless!” he screamed into his ear.  “You hear me Ortega!  You piece of vampire shit!”  It felt amazing to dish it out for once!  To make him feel the way he’d made them all feel. 

Jake held on for all he was worth, choking him to the ground.  In a last ditch effort Ortega dropped straight back as hard as he could muster, slamming Jake to the floor under his weight.  Jake’s head hit something hard and he let go. 

Ortega stood up coughing wickedly then laughed.  “You got balls boy!  I’ll give you that!”  He extended Jake a hand.  Jake looked at it skeptically.  “It’s alright.”  Ortega smiled, the blood from his nose still pouring over his lips.  Jake took it and Ortega pulled him to his feet then patted him hard on the back.  Buck came back into the room with Sergeant Lucas on his heels.