World of Ashes (65 page)

The bloody task
done, Ethan sat next to Allen while he grieved. There was a lot of blood, the round possibly having hit an artery in Jimmy’s leg. The men and women who’d seen the end of Colonel Sharp went their separate aways, knowing they’d seen the end of it and not wanting to watch Allen cry over the body of his only anchor to this world and life itself.

Something possess
ed Ethan to check Jimmy’s pulse, maybe habit from watching movies, maybe a voice in his head that sounded like Keith said he couldn’t just act like Dr. Crusher and not check a pulse before pronouncing someone dead. He didn’t feel one in the boy’s neck, but on his wrist a weak pulse was still palpable. “Allen, help me get him into the open, he’s still got a pulse.” Ethan leaned down and felt for breathing. He couldn’t feel it but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He opened Jimmy’s jaw and checked for debris and the boy coughed soot colored snot and blood. Ethan tore Jimmy’s shirt off and found half a dozen smaller wounds, some still oozing, but none that compromised his breathing.

A Texan medic ran through the smoke like a hero on Baywatch and
slid in the blood next to Jimmy. An angel who had known he was needed just as the perfect time. “What can you tell me?” The medic shouted as a Chinook took off overhead, already evacuating other wounded.

“Probable
GSW or shrapnel to the right abdomen, ancillary wounds to lower extremities with potential arterial bleeding. Patient is cyanotic and breathing is minimal.” Ethan rattled off, remembering some of his Combat Life Saver’s course.

“Got it.” The medic worked quickly, taking his helmet off and dropping to his knees, his black spiked hair and shaved face a stark contrast to the everyday of frontier life.
“Keep this mask on him. One breath every five seconds.” The medic ordered, handing Ethan a bag-valve-mask. “I’m starting an IV, get pressure on those wounds there.” The medic slapped Allen, waking him from his panic. He instinctively tore open the bandages and made a picture perfect bandage over his brother’s leg wound.

More medics and stretcher bearers arrived and carted Jimmy off to a waiting Chinook. Allen went with, the medic okaying it with the pilots. The giant helicopter lumbered into the sky and was gone into the clouds only minutes later, leaving the burning airfield far behind
and nearly silent. Ethan looked over at the medic that had probably just saved Jimmy’s life. He was covered in blood now too and was looking for a clean patch of cloth to wipe his face on. There didn’t seem to be one.

Ethan
handed the medic a handkerchief. It was dirty, but not as bad as the rest of him. “I got used to carrying extras.”

“Thanks. I’m Thompson.” The medic said
, pointing to his First Sergeant, who was on the other side of a distant row of sandbags beating the shit out of a Federal Jumpsuit with brass knuckles. “I think Top’s looking for you, Sheriff, but are you okay?” Thompson seemed suddenly concerned about Ethan. “That’s a lot of blood.”

“Oh... It’s not m
ine.” Ethan pointed to what was left of Colonel Sharp.

“Jesus…” Thompson
cringed. “You do that?”

“
Some people just have it comin’.” Ethan was unapologetic.

“I’m sure. I’ve probably shot as many of those pricks as I’ve patched up. Little bastards
like to surrender to whoever’ll treat ‘em like royalty and let ‘em rot in a prison. Texas, though, we put them fuckers to work on chain gangs. I hope you guys do the same up here.”

Ethan almost laughed. “We’re not keeping them. They’ll be lucky if we don’t hang them.”

“You sure you’re the law around here?” Thompson asked.

“Maybe. Depends who’s asking.” Ethan sat on the tarmac, someplace where h
is view wasn’t all blood and gore. As luck would have it a crate of Diet Coke had been used as someone’s cover. It now lay spilled all over the blacktop, whoever was behind it had somehow gotten away. Ethan grabbed a can and popped it open, the foam spraying all over. It was cold outside, so the soda was cold too. “I was a Pepsi man, personally. This stuff tastes… bitter.”

Sergeant Thompson
sat next to Ethan and popped open a can for himself. “Been a long time since I’ve even had a pop. It all tastes good to me.”

Ethan smirked, “Did you just say pop? I thought all good Southerners called every soft drink Coke.”

“I’m from Detroit.” Thompson savored the cola.

“Ah. I should have seen the Joker’s Card on your bandana there.”

“Fuck Slim Anus.” Thompson laughed, reciting a stanza from the song. Someone on the other side of the burned-out hangar responded with the next stanza. The unseen Texan soldier with equally bulky gear came around the corner to finish the third part with his buddy. “Yo.” Thompson bro-fisted his friend.

“Who’s this?” The soldier asked, motioning to Ethan
with a toothy smile.

“He’s the
John Law, so behave.” Thompson handed his friend a Diet Coke.

“Sweet.” The other sergeant popped his can open and guzzled the soda. “Man I missed that. You guys…
You got lucky.” He said, pointing at Ethan.

“What are you talking ab
out?” Ethan was getting annoyed at the redhead in a hurry.

“You can’t see it from here, but there’s a full blown battle going on over Kansas City as we speak,
ma man. We caught their entire Southern Army with their pants down on the west side of the city. We were gonna go help fuck ‘em up, but then we heard these Federal assclowns calling for air support over an open channel. Seems they didn’t expect anyone to fight for this town.”

“…yeah…” Ethan was beginning to acc
ept the horror of the day, certain it wasn’t over. The medication dulled the pain, but hundreds of scenarios and alternative endings ran through his head, so many What Ifs that could have gone one way or the other. It had taken more than four years for the shock and horror of what had happened in Iraq to really sink in. This time it was quicker, but no less painful. He just handled it better. “Either of you got a cigarette?”

“No, but I got a joint.” The redheaded sergeant said, handing an expertly rolled joint to Ethan. “Found em in the hangar marked Federal Compliance Evidence.” His smirk was enormous.

Ethan lit it and inhaled. “Damn. Allen sure can grow it.” He said before erupting in a violent coughing fit. “You guys even allowed to have this shit?”

“The rules are ambiguous on the front, but civilians can have it down South
. Government couldn’t enforce prohibition, not that the VP would have stood for that anyhow. They just said fuck it and started regulating and taxing the shit. Took all the money and guns directly from the
Messican
Cartel’s pockets.

T
hat warm fuzzy feeling coming over him, and Ethan started laughing. They smoked and joked as more people came to the airfield, searching for lost loved ones and loading the injured onto Texan medevac choppers. The two sergeants parted ways with Ethan, leaving him with his thoughts, alone at the airfield where his friend’s little brother had probably just died. Who else was dead? He didn’t have that many friends left to lose. There was a familiar tugging at his pants, the instinctual reaction was to reach for his knife to stab the zombie grabbing for him, but Ethan knew it was Bogey. The dog had found him despite the insanity around him. The beagle was wagging his tail furiously, overjoyed to find his alpha.

“Hey, boy.” Ethan reached down and scooped up his dog.
The beagle piddled a little bit he was so excited, but Ethan’s uniform was already gross with blood. “You get you a Federal today too?”

“He sure did.” Mar
y was standing in a cloud of smoke, looking like a warrior goddess from the cover of
Heavy Metal Magazine
with loose battle-rattle clinging to her ample curves. Sabrina stood next to her, both the worse for ware and covered in soot and blood. Ethan jumped up and embraced his wife. Mary let him squeeze her until she couldn’t breathe, overwhelmed that she could still feel love in the middle of all the hate. “I’m okay, baby. I’m okay.”

“Have you seen Lee?” Ethan asked, unsure if he could let go
. “Where’s our baby?”

“They’re fine…” Mar
y let go and motioned to Sabrina. “But not everybody.”

Ethan felt his heart drop. “Sabrina?” He asked, scanning the area for her beloved Tammy.
The stubborn, self-reliant, loving woman he’d rescued from the abandoned armory broke down into tears. She was barely able to compose herself enough to nod to Ethan that Tammy hadn’t made it. Ethan let go of his wife and embraced his friend as well. She stood and cried into his chest. “I’m so sorry.” Ethan repeated, but it was useless. No amount of remorse or revenge could bring Tammy back.

From the first day Co
lonel Sharp and his men arrived to the end of the battle of Sullivan over a thousand citizens were dead or missing. Another two thousand sustained injuries of some sort. Of the fifteen hundred people the Federals brought with them, including soldiers, only seventy had survived the Rebellion. The Texans begrudgingly took those who had surrendered with them as POWs, knowing the townspeople weren’t likely to let them live. Almost no one had come out of the fight unscathed, dozens of children had been killed or badly wounded, trapped in houses the Federals burned on their way out or caught up trying to defend their homes as well. Ethan was in shock as they drove to the police station. He didn’t speak, just sat there and took stock of the devastation visited upon his home.

Lee
was at the police station staring blankly at Kenly’s desk, but not sitting behind it. His breathing was shallow, his hands unflinching.

“Lee…” Ethan was giving out a lot of hugs today, and the rarest of all went to his brother. “Are you okay?” He asked, almost unable to
let go as his throat choked up.

“I am… Kenly’s not.” Lee could handle
almost anything, all the death and horror he’d seen in his short life, but this was somehow different. Rarely had he witnessed true heroism, but when he had it struck him to the core. “Crazy bastard.” He broke down and wept for the first time since the world ended. Lee straightened himself and looked around at the personal effects of a great man after the tears stopped.

“How’d he go?”

“Like a fuckin’ Marine.” Lee laughed as he cried. “Stupid bastard plowed his Cadillac into platoon of Federals… Got out and started banging away at ‘em with those cap & ball pistols you gave him… He saved twelve men and a bunch of small children they were protecting, all pinned down behind that old red caboose in the park… I don’t even know what he was thinking.”

“
He wasn’t. He was just doing what was right.” Ethan breathed deeply, not sure how to tell Lee about Jimmy and Allen, or even about Tammy. Sabrina and her girlfriend were close friends of Lee’s now. The loss of one was as tragic as the loss of both. “So who’s in charge now?”

“Your wife.”

Ethan sank into the chair next to the door he was accustomed to receiving his ass chewings in. Aaron Kenly could really start yelling when he hadn’t had his morning Scotch & Doobie. “God help us. What now?”

Lee paused for a long time. “Now comes the big shebang…”

“The Second American Civil War.”