Journal (38 page)

My
reaction, of course, was to duck.  It was a natural thing to do, instinct, but
not what I
wanted
to do.  I wanted to go right at him, not hide.  So I
got up off the ground and started shooting and moving.  As I was going in his
direction, I remember it seemed as though the sounds of gunfire from the main
fight had increased to the point that it was as if a giant string of
firecrackers had been lit off.  I’ll bet little hunks of metal were flying all
over the place, no doubt my way as well.  Just standing upright was a risk.

I
was running at that point and so was Eric.  The ground we were on was uneven —
bushes, trees, rocks, brambles.  I fired off a couple of shots at his back but
apparently missed because I didn’t see him flinch or anything.  I had him on
the go, though.  He couldn’t get set.  He couldn’t stop because it wasn’t just
me he was worried about.  Others would be coming soon, too.

I
saw him stumble, go part way down, but quickly get back on his feet, this time,
though, I didn’t see a gun in his hand.  That gave me confidence.  From a
distance of maybe twenty five yards, I set myself just long enough to take
another shot.  I heard him cry out and grab the top of his shoulder.  It was
that meaty area between his neck and the tip of his shoulder.  That, and the
fact that he started zigzagging back and forth, in and out of trees and bushes,
allowed me to get even closer to him.  I set myself again and timed his zag, I
guess you could say, so that I could finally put him down.  Just as I was about
to shoot, I heard gunfire coming from my right and saw the ground in front of
me kicked up dirt.  Somebody else was trying to kill me.

I
threw myself backwards, away from the bullets, and made like a snake slithering
for a hole, moving faster than I could ever imagine.  To give you an idea of
how jumped-up I was, I didn’t feel any pain in my hurt shoulder during this
whole part of it.

The
first rock I stopped behind wasn’t big enough to completely hide me, so I
crawled to another one that was a little bigger and also under a bush.  Once
there, I popped my head up to shoot whoever was shooting at me and recognized he
was one of the men from Woburn.  So I ducked back down again and started yelling
out all the swear words I knew, telling him who I was, telling him to stop
shooting at me, and telling him that Eric was getting away.

When
I ran out of things to say, he yelled back and told me to stand up so he could
see me.  I didn’t like that idea too much, so I just peeked at him first, showing
only my head, ready to duck back down if necessary.  When I saw him kind of ex-wife and daughter y point relax,
I stood all the way up.

There
was no time to shake his hand, or explain anything, or do anymore swearing.  I just
took off after Eric, telling him to follow me.  We ran at first, and then
walked for a couple hundred yards I guess, but we saw no sign of Eric or anyone
else for that matter.  He got away, again, for now.  I can’t believe that guy’s
luck.  At least he was hurting.

As
we started back toward the others, my companion said, “Hey, sorry about that back
there.”

He
was a man of about forty, I would judge, with a three day growth of beard and
wearing glasses that had a rubber band tied on them, stretched between the stems,
across the back of his head so they wouldn’t fall off.  Even though he said the
words, his eyes didn’t show real sorry.  That was all right, though.  He didn’t
need to say anything at all.  I wasn’t even supposed to be there.

“No
big deal,” I told him.

Once
the dead were searched, the guns and ammunition gathered up, the three healthy
prisoners tied up, (I think they decided to let the wounded just die), and my
duty to warn Woburn of the planned attack done, I told them I was going back to
help Alan and mom.

That
got a “No way, son,” from Arvid.

I
guess he still hadn’t figured me out yet, so I told him again that I was going
back for them, this time using words that didn’t give him the idea he had any
say about it.

After
that, there was quiet and everyone just kind of stood around, either looking at
one another or at their toes, at least until the woman in their group, Tracy
Pickens, spoke up and volunteered to go with me.  That got another two
volunteers, a guy who looked about my age and a man of about twenty five with a
thin, expressionless face, who carried a rifle with a scope on it.  After some
more time passed, with everyone standing around and nobody making a decision, I
started off.  As soon as I did that, Tracy put a hand on my arm, and it stopped
me.  She stared at a man across the little circle we’d formed, smiled and
arched her eyebrows.  He was a tall guy about her age, so maybe thirty.  He shifted
his feet, did a quick sideways look at the people on either side of him and followed
these antics with a sheepish “OK,” that got a few chuckles from the others. 
Something was obviously up between Tracy and this man, but I didn’t have the
time to think about it.  Time was too valuable.

So
there were four of them plus me who started back in the rain, with maybe only
two or three hours of light left to find and help mom and Alan.

The
others said that they would take the vehicle and prisoners back to Woburn, give
the warning, and send additional help as soon as they could.

There’s
not a hell of a lot more to tell.  I’m getting close to the end now, if there’s
such a thing as an end.  I say that because I’m thinking that a story like this
is more of an on-going thing, without a beginning or an end.  It’s not my story,
or Alan’s, or moms, or that lady Cdon’t know whytiflaire’s.  It’s really just a bunch of events,
all strung together.  These events never stop either.  They just keep happening,
just like the sun comes up every morning and goes down every night.  We are
part of them for a time and then we’re not because we’re dead, except for maybe
how we changed things in some small way and those changes changed others.  Kind
of like how Eric changed things by kidnapping mom and me, and how because of
that we met Alan, and how because of that Alan and mom fell in love, and so on
and so on, before and after.  So I guess when I finish writing what I feel I
have to write about, the story just keeps going, I just stop telling it is all. 
Does that make sense?

Well
anyway, to finish up this part of it, we didn’t reach them before dark.  I was
still all charged up to keep going, but they talked me into waiting until first
light for all the obvious reasons.  So we waited.

No
fire was built.  We didn’t want to be found out by any of Eric’s people.  So in
the dark, they caught me up on what was happening in Woburn, and I told them
all of what happened to mom, me, and Alan while I was gone.

The
only thing I want to write about my part of it is that as I talked, close up to
them in a tight little circle, our knees just about touching, I noticed their eyes
were kind of poking at me all over.  You know, going from my eyes, to my hands,
to places on my body, and back to my eyes again.  And what I think they were
doing was comparing me, what they saw of me anyway, to the words that came out
of my mouth.  After I was done, well I really can’t tell you what they thought
because there was nothing said one way or the other about it, but I got the
feeling the men were wondering how they would have done in my place.  Tracy,
well, she looked like she wanted to throw her arms around me.  I don’t need
anyone’s feelings, though.  I wasn’t brave, or tough, or any of that stuff.  I
just kept doing the next thing to be done to keep from dying.

As
far as their part of the conversation, they said formal elections had been held
in Woburn and a council selected to govern.  A constitution of sorts had been
written and, after considerable arguing back and forth, some wanting more say
so in the hands of the council and others against it, it was approved by general
vote.  They also said that the numbers of persons allowed to become part of the
town had increased with the improved harvest.  And because of the new talent,
there were several cars up and running and now a more stable production of
electricity was had.  There were also three doctors and a dentist now, but
medicine was still a big problem.  A chemist had been recruited to work on
making some of the basic sort of things, pain killers, antibiotics and insulin. 
However, progress had been slow in that regard, which was too bad since several
people with diabetes had died because the supply of insulin had run out.

I
also learned that Tracy is the half sister of the kid my age (Kyle) who had also
volunteered to come with us.  The man who joined our little rescue party last
(Everett), the one who got the laughs, is a quiet, almost shy man, who lost his
wife and kids to the sickness.  He and Tracy have been eyeing each other for
awhile, still are, and everyone knew it, but it apparently hadn’t gone much
beyond that.  That leaves the stone faced man.  His name is Bob, and I don’t
know anything more about him because he hardly said anything at all.  He seemed
a regular type, though, someone to share work wthat’s what I didwotith.

There
was a lot more said by them that night than I’ve written down, but I have to
admit I was only half listening because my thoughts were elsewhere most the
time.  I just couldn’t get mom and Alan off my mind.

If
I slept, I don’t remember it.  So I was awake when I heard the gunshots off in
the distance and already moving in their direction, with the others hurrying to
catch up, when I heard the louder explosion a few minutes later.  You can
imagine what I was thinking.  What else could I think?

Ah,
what a mess.  We found Alan and mom right where I’d last left them, hidden down
in the rocks, he on top of her.  By the lay of things, I’d say that he set off
our last bomb at the final moment, right when they were closing in for the kill
because five of them lay scattered about, dead or dying.  Eric wasn’t among
them.

I
don’t know if Alan was killed by the blast or not because he had other wounds,
too, but the damage to his body from the bomb was terrible to see.  Most of it
was to his back and the side facing the place where the bomb went off.  Mom’s
face, just about the only thing exposed, was covered with blood.  My thought at
that moment was that he did it.  Alan killed her like I asked him to, to save
her from any further torture and humiliation.

I
know how I’m writing this out.  It must seem to anyone reading it that I was all
calm like and everything, but when I first saw them, it was more like somebody
kicked me right in the gut.  I doubled over and threw-up a dry stomach, right
there beside them.  Tears ran down my face.  I cried and didn’t try to hide it,
either.  I felt as though everything I ever cared about had been taken from
me.  It was Tracy who got me clear headed again.

She
pushed past me and tried to pull Alan’s body off mom.  All of a sudden I was
light headed with hope.  My vision tunneled to the point where everything
around was a white haze except them.  My hands trembled as I joined in, as did
that guy Everett, and together we lifted what was left of Alan off her.  She
was alive.  The blood was mostly from Alan …except for one small cut on her
forehead.  After we got to checking her over, she had only one bad wound.  It
was the one she got back by the river; the one to her hip.  I could hardly
believe it.  She was unconscious, though, and that was bad business by itself.

Alan
didn’t kill her after all, like I had asked him to, and that has been a reason
for a lot of thinking on my part these days since.  I’m still thinking about
it.  It’s tough to be wrong about something like that.  I wouldn’t have her now
if he’d listened to me.

I
killed off the ones left wounded, to the stares of the others in our group. 
They never said a word about what I did, though, then or since, but I have to
admit that their silence has been loud enough and good reason for me to wonder
if I’ve become something I shouldn’t.  I don’t feel bad for doing it but maybe
that’s the point.  I need to think some more about it.  Maybe I should talk to
mom about it, too.  I don’t feel I was wrong.

Anyway,
after the last bullet was fired, we used what was