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Authors: John D. Mimms

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BOOK: The Myriad Resistance
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The rest of the Impals all appeared to be Caucasian, seventy-eight in all, again with a mixture of men, women and children. I wasn't sure how many of them were American. I knew there was at least one French person, according to Burt. I met a man from England on my last trip to the mine. They made the choice to remain when they died, but it made me wonder if they were given a choice on
where
to remain. I heard a few accounts of Impals showing up hundreds of miles from where they died. Perhaps there was something about the ocean keeping them from their native country. That idea sent a nervous twinge through my stomach when I considered our plan tonight. I pushed it aside and scanned the crowd to gauge the reaction. My heart sank when I saw apprehension clouding their faces.

Mrs. Fiddler and her daughter stood near the front and I could see pure terror registering on both of their faces. My heart went out to them. It didn't surprise me, not one bit. I can't imagine I would react any different if in their shoes. Being under the ocean at night, not knowing what horror lurked in the darkness mere feet away. That scenario was enough to horrify the bravest. They would be dark because they would all carry batteries and I didn't think Impals could see in the dark, not since the lanterns seemed to burn constantly in the mine. I was scared enough and I was going to be in a boat, not in the briny depths of Chesapeake Bay.

Could anything really hurt the Impals? I didn't think so, not unless a shark with iron teeth showed up. If there is one thing I have learned in my life is harm can come from other things besides physical injury. Growing up with my father taught me that lesson well. They cherished the same hopes, fears, love and emotional needs as any flesher. Anyone who has a dash of sanity and a little bit of heart can tell in an instant.

When I thought about the thousands of Impals who had been put through the Shredder's ravenous maws, the thirty minutes these Impals would be forced to endure tonight didn't seem that bad. Of course, I wouldn't dream of sharing that belief with them. Not if I didn't want to be clouted over the head with a bucket.

When Danny finished speaking, the chamber filled with restless murmuring and harsh whispers.

“Why can't some of us ride in a boat?” a man in eighteenth-century clothing, complete with a triangle hat and knickers, shouted. He must have been the French gentleman Burt mentioned. As with Chief Powhatan, I could tell he was speaking a foreign language, yet I could understand him as if he were speaking English.

Danny sighed and glanced sideways at us. He had gone over this. I guess it bore repeating since several other Impals indicated they wanted to know too.

“Because,” Danny began, “there are patrol boats surveying the shore at regular intervals. Frankly, we'll be lucky if we can get the two small boats out there without being seen.”

“What if we want to take our chances in a boat … shouldn't it be our choice?” a woman with a ‘saucer wave' hairdo from the 1930s asked. She wore a red crepe suit, making her seem both professional and glamorous. “I'm afraid of the water … always have been!”

“Me too,” a small voice whimpered.

I turned to see it came from Mrs. Fiddler's daughter. She now buried her face on her mother's chest.

“It won't hurt you, I promise,” Lincoln said with a warm smile. “I went for a dip in the lake last night myself … it actually kind of tickles,” he said as he patted the girl on the head and gave the frightened 1930s woman a comforting wink.

“I-I am not sure, I think I drowned,” a large Native American man said. “I don't know if I can do it.”

“You didn't drown!” another Native American man said. “You ate yourself to death!”

There was a smattering of uneasy laughter from the crowd and I laughed along with them.

“That's why they call you Hungry Bear,” another Native American added. Again, the room filled with uneasy laughter.

“How long will it take again?” a slender African American man wearing a modern pinstripe suit asked.

“No more than thirty minutes,” Danny said.

The man stared with uncertainty at his feet. He then turned to an African American woman standing next to him. Her expression was as terrified as the Fiddler's.

“It's okay, baby. You can shut your eyes tight and I'll lead you,” the man said, patting the woman on the hand.

A strange thought flashed through my mind. “Do Impals have eyelids to shut?”

I supposed they did, maybe not exactly like mine. Impals slept with their eyes closed.

“I ain't scared!” Chester spoke up.

He was in the back and, due to his short stature; I did not noticed him earlier. He was not the same crazed and wild-eyed person as the day of his rescue. He seemed remarkably brave and lucid.

“I love the water!” he said, “And I can't wait to run free in it. Anyone wants to shut their eyes while I lead the way, just say so.”

A few hands rose in the air. Chester folded his arms in front of his chest with pride. I was glad to see he was doing much better, as much I was glad to see the tension in the room was starting to loosen somewhat.

In my mind, walking across the ocean floor at nighttime was almost as terrifying as what Chester endured … almost. I guess after his experience this would be a walk in the park. At least the small spark of his confidence seemed to put everybody a little more at ease, although I harbored no illusions. I knew when we carried the operation out later tonight; we would have several who would back out at the last minute. That was why Danny was bringing along several sets of iron chains. It would be necessary to tether these reluctant Impals to the ones brave enough to attempt it. He privately discussed this with Lincoln and as terrible and hypocritical as this move would be, they both agreed it was necessary. The Impals must go or they would face the Shredder, potentially a fate worse than death.

The leaders of the Impals stayed to discuss fears and concerns as Danny, Burt and I left the mine. Danny's jaw locked as if something troubled him.

“Is there going to be a problem?” Burt asked.

“Hell yes there's going to be a problem!” Danny retorted. “Do you think you can ask a group of one hundred-ten people to do something like this and there not be some resistance?”

“It shouldn't hurt them,” Burt argued.

“Shouldn't,”
Danny snapped. “We know salt water is going to interfere with the batteries, how the hell do we know what it's going to do to them? Lincoln just took a dip in fresh water last night; there could be a huge difference!”

“You mean nobody has tested this with Impals?” I asked.

Danny was about to turn his frustration towards me when I held my hands up in a calming gesture. He sighed and dropped his shoulders as if all the air left him.

“I'm sorry guys; I have a lot on my plate tonight. I guess I foolishly believed we would receive a better reception to the plan.”


We
have a lot on
our
plates tonight,” I corrected. “You're not in this alone.”

Danny scratched his head and said, “You're right, I should have given the two of you more information from the get-go.”

I could not agree more.

“I felt if I kept it on a need to know basis, it would reduce the risk of our plan being discovered.”

“What … did you think Cecil was going to run and tell his daddy the moment he knew the full details of your plan?” Burt snapped.

Danny shook his head and, like the cocking of a gun, I saw his jaw pull tight again.

“No I didn't!” he shouted, sending an echo through the canopy of trees. “If either one of you were captured, the information could have been forced out of you!”

I decided it was time to step in and play peacemaker before things got too far out of hand.

“You did the right thing, Danny,” I said. “I know my father wouldn't hesitate to use whatever methods necessary to get information out of any of us.”

Danny's eyes flashed between us as if he was trying to figure out who we were.

“It was the right thing,” Burt said with hesitation in his voice. “I'm sorry, Danny.”

Danny said nothing.

“Is there anything we can do between now and tonight?” I asked.

Danny spoke in a distant voice before he turned through the woods and headed towards his cabin.

“No, just get plenty of rest today. I need both of you to be a hundred percent tonight.”

Without another word, he turned and headed through the woods.

“Five o'clock at the mess hall,” he called over his shoulder. “Don't be late!”

Burt and I shrugged. There was nothing more to say.

I went back to our cabin and was surprised to find it empty; I guess Barbara was doing something with the girls. I hung Barbara's blanket up over the window and stretched out on my cot to take Danny's advice. I rolled over and shut my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep. Rest did not come easy. I tossed, turned, and was shaken wide-awake when the girls came back. Barbara quietly ushered them out when she saw me on the cot. She gave me a peck on the cheek before going back outside.

Sleep finally came, I'm not sure how fast it arrived or how long it remained. It was restful. My head filled with dreams of iron caskets and ocean terrors. I think I endured a few nightmares where I was trapped in an iron casket on the ocean floor. I finally slid off the cot because I couldn't take another pulse-pounding image. I felt mentally and physically exhausted.

I stood up and checked at my watch, my heart almost stopped. It was 4:40 PM; I had to be at the mess hall in twenty minutes. I ran out the door to find the girls. There was something I needed to tell them.

CHAPTER 22

THE BAY

“Heroes may not be braver than anyone else. They're just braver five minutes longer.”

~Ronald Reagan

I found Barbara and Abbs down by the lake skipping stones. They paused and greeted me with hugs, then asked if I would accompany them to dinner. I glanced at my watch and saw it was seventeen minutes to five. I opened my mouth to speak then Barbara stopped me.

“It's okay, they're serving dinner early tonight due to your mission,” she said. “I was about to come wake you.”

“Where's Steff?” I asked.

“She's already there. I told her to save us a seat,” Abbs said.

I accompanied the women to the mess hall for what I was sure would be another helping of Vienna Sausages, Spam or some other potted meat. However, when we got inside I found a pleasant surprise. Danny took a huge risk and went into town where he brought back several bags of Martian Burgers' saucer burgers and fries. There was no ‘take me to your liter' sized drinks, however there was a Styrofoam ice chest full of a variety of sodas. Steff sat at a table beside Danny, devouring a hamburger bigger than her head. Danny motioned us over.

“What's this?” I asked as he handed Barbara, Abbs and me our own personal bag of burger and fries.

“Fuel,” Danny said. “Eat up.”

Barbara went to the ice chest and brought each of us the soda of our choice or at least the closest approximation to it. Danny was not big on variety or name brand. I wasn't complaining; I appreciated every morsel of my meal and every sip of my drink. Only, as good as it was, I couldn't shake one nagging thought. I wondered if this would be my last supper. The fact that we all sat in a row on one side of the table resembling the famous da Vinci painting didn't help to quell my angst.

The rest of the appointed crew showed up in the meantime, and after they enjoyed their dinner, we set out for Danny's cabin. I stopped for a moment and called Barbara and Abbs to the side.

“Listen, in case anything happens, I want you to go here,” I said, pulling a folded piece of notebook paper out of my pocket. I opened it to reveal a hand drawn map I hastily sketched after my nap.

“What do you mean … are you expecting something?” Abbs asked in a frightened voice.

“No, I'm not expecting anything,” I assured her. “It's just that we are going to be gone for most of the night. There are only a handful of folks in camp tonight. I want to prepare for everything.”

“Are you going to leave me a gun?” Barbara asked.

“Well … Taylor will be here. He said he would watch out for you,” I said.

Barbara repeated her question. This time with a stern face and raised eyebrows.

“I'll make sure you get one,” I said with a great deal of hesitation.

I knew Barbara could handle a gun. She went to the shooting range with me on a number of occasions. That didn't change the fact I did not like her
having
to handle one. I guess the chauvinist in me is stubborn.

I hugged both of them before leaving and even managed to get a weak one from Steff, which was just what I needed now. It was good to know that I had the support of my whole family.

We convened at Danny's cabin as planned with Lincoln, Powhatan and the president. They arrived with batteries in hand to avoid detection. We ran over the plan again. When Danny was comfortable that everyone was on the same page, he sent the three Impal leaders to the mine to begin preparing the refugees.

“Do you think we are going to have any problems tonight?” Danny asked the three men before they left.

They all seemed worried.

“There is some apprehension, which is understandable. Among the three of us, I am sure we can manage it,” Lincoln said

The president and Powhatan agreed.

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as the three men disappeared out the door. There were going to be problems, it was almost a mathematical certainty. There were not only our one hundred-ten Impals to worry about. There were hundreds more meeting us tonight. There would be apprehension and there would be panic. Panic can draw attention, which was the last thing we needed. It was going to be hard enough getting past the shore patrols. Even assuming the majority marched into the water like good little soldiers; a few terrified souls could go berserk and cause a scene. That was why Danny requested the equipment nobody wanted to discuss, the iron chains and restraints

BOOK: The Myriad Resistance
13.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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