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Authors: Glen Robinson

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14. survival skills

 

 

EVANGELIST: OUTSIDE CLARKSVILLE, TENNESSEE: DAY 720

Our trip went pretty smoothly after I picked up Pilgrim and took her to the base camp at Fort Campbell outside Clarksville. Our training side had been established there for over a year, and I knew the commander and many of the staff there. They accepted us, no questions asked. I told them that we would be staying on for a few weeks.

Normally the new people get stuck in the barracks with the rest of the recruits. I talked the commander into giving us a separate cabin. I knew that Pilgrim wasn’t there for the whole three-month program, and I wanted to train her myself. That way I limited who knew we were there and who she really was. What I had in mind was a six-week crash course in survival skills, hand-to-hand and some marksmanship practice. I first made sure that Pilgrim had plenty to eat and got some sleep. She seemed pretty resilient to me, but she needed to add some pounds. So for the first week, I simply told her to eat as much as she could and gave her a dozen books to read.

When she had digested
The Art of War
by Sun Tsu, three books on wilderness survival and books by Clausewitz and Napoleon on strategy, I quizzed her. Two of the books she did pretty well on. I had her read the others again.

The second week, I took her to the firing range. I let her use my Glock and try her hand at short-range stuff.

“First, we start with gun safety,” I said. “Never, never point a gun at someone unless you plan on shooting them. And then, shoot to kill.”

Infinity—
Pilgrim
—looked up with those big baby blues and I almost told her,
Don’t worry; I’ll always be there to chase away the bad guys
, but I knew that wasn’t true. I felt like I was rushing her training, but there wasn’t any way around it. I was needed elsewhere, and every day I spent with her, someone else was dying.

After she got used to the kick of a 9 mil, she actually got pretty good. The first time she fired the pistol, however, the kickback put her on her backside. But she got right back up. I had to admire her for never backing down from learning something new.

By the end of the second week, she could hit within the middle circle four out of five shots.

“Good,” I told her. “If we had time, I would back the target up and let you keep trying at distance. And you also need to learn to use a crossbow.”

“Crossbow, why? And why don’t we have time?”

“Crossbow, because you can make one easier than you can a pistol. And when you are out of caps, a pistol is about as handy as a hammer.”

“But why don’t we have time?”

I sighed. “Pilgrim, I told you once that the Secret Service was short handed. The truth is that all of our forces are short-handed. We came here to Clarksville because I needed to teach you a few things. But we also came here because this is a good place for me to receive orders.”

“Orders? Orders for what?”

“I was told that the Service can no longer afford to have me with you at all times. I’ll come with you when I’m not needed elsewhere, and I’ll always be there when you need me. But there’ll be many times when I’ll have to leave.”

Pilgrim stared at me as if I had told her her father had died.

“But I can’t get across the country by myself. I’m just a girl!”

I smiled at her and shook my head. “You are more than a girl. You are your father’s girl. And you are resilient, tough, obstinate…you can do this. That’s why these few weeks we have together are very important.”

Pilgrim looked like she was about to cry, and I felt as if I’d abandoned her again. Finally, she nodded. “Teach me everything you can.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said.

Week three started her physical fitness. She’d had a chance to rest and put on a few pounds, and now I thought it was time to put muscle on her bones. She’d already been walking; I turned that to running. I gave her the challenge of running everywhere she went. In addition, I had her work on upper body strength. We started with pushups from the knees, then straight legged, then on finger tips. When she had mastered those—in a few weeks—I got her started doing chin ups.

The camp had an obstacle course established, and I got her on it in week 4. She learned to climb trees faster than she ever thought possible, walk rails like a balance beam, climb through mud, swing through treetops, and swim underwater for a full minute.

“You do realize that all of this is just an introductory course,” I told her. “I don’t know when I’ll be pulled away from here. And just because you complete the official course doesn’t mean you’re ready. You’re never really ready. The only way to prove you’re ready is by going out there and surviving in the world.”

Week 5 focused on more book work. I had her identifying common plants that had medicinal elements, could be eaten raw or cooked, or that could be used as a weapon. I showed her how to make poisoned arrows to go with the crossbow that I also had her build. And I had her make a hunting knife from a piece of old iron that she had scavenged, heated in the fire and sharpened to a fine point, with a handle from wrapped rabbit hide.

I taught her to trap rabbits, squirrels and birds. The hardest lesson for her came when she actually caught a rabbit. I took it out of the trap and let her hold it in her hands.

“Oh, it’s so cute,” she said.

“Kill it,” I said. She looked up at me in disbelief.

“Do it,” I said. “Do it or I will.”

She stared at the rabbit for a long moment, unsure.

I sighed. “Give it to me.”

She shook her head. “No. I can do it.”

I waited patiently as she took the rabbit and wrung its neck. The little rabbit squealed like a human baby, and I saw tears come into her eyes.

“Now you know what death feels like,” I said. “Now you know you can kill if you have to.”

She didn’t look up, but nodded.

 

Week six was capped off by a game of hide and seek. I gave her two hours to get away from me, and then I set off in pursuit of her. She had learned to cover her tracks, and she did a pretty good job, but then I saw one scuffed place among the lichen on top of a rock. I followed her trail up the side of a mountain and across a stream. Her trail stopped at the bottom of a large pine tree, and I looked up, wondering if she was waiting up there for me. Instead, I saw that she had climbed high enough to jump to a nearby hillside. I only knew that she’d done so because the top of one of the saplings on the hillside was broken. I climbed the hill and looked for her path, but there wasn’t one. I looked around, mystified. Then I went back to the spot where I’d determined that she’d jumped onto the hillside. I was looking back down the hill when I heard a slight noise behind me. Before I had a chance to react, she had her homemade hunting knife at my throat.

“You’re getting sloppy,” she said.

“Pretty good,” I said. “But I did know that you were here.”

“Did not. You didn’t have a clue.”

I chuckled. “I may be sloppy, but you’re getting cocky. Just don’t think….”

“Yes, I know,” she said. “Don’t think I’ve stopped learning…ever.”

I took her back to the cabin. She registered surprise when she saw that both of our backpacks were ready.

“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.

“St. Louis,” I said. “When we get there, I’ll put you in touch with a man named Madrigal. He will take you farther west, to a place called the House of the Interpreter. I’ll meet you there.”

Her face darkened. “So you’re leaving me again.”

I shrugged. “I told you it was coming. I can’t stay in one place for that long.”

She stepped forward, a strange and eager light coming into her eyes.

“Take me with you,” she said. “I can hold my own.”

“Maybe someday,” I said. “Right now your job is to rejoin your father.”

She shook her head. “Daddy has done fine without me for two years. He can wait.”

I grabbed her by her shoulders. “Never let anyone know who you are or who your father is. It could mean life and death to you. They could also use you against him.”

“Take me with you,” she repeated, this time almost as a whisper, and a softer look came into her eyes.

“I will meet you at the House of the Interpreter,” I repeated, my heart banging away in my chest. “If I’m not there, keep going west. Across the Great Desert, to the mountains. Camp Zion is there. Your father is there.”

“Take me with you,” she said again, almost as a mantra, as she held onto my chest.

I held her against me for a long moment, partly for her sake, mostly for my own. Finally I said, “It’s time to go.”
  
Back to ToC

 

15. duck hunt

 

 

DAMIEN: EASTERN TENNESSEE: DAY 716

When I realized that I’d have to get rough on Ellie to get the information I needed, I hesitated at first. After all, even though it wasn’t the first time that I’d hit a girl, I knew it probably wouldn’t stop with that. But Dad told me that we were committed to the fortunes of the new regime, hook, line and sinker. If they succeeded with their grand plan, we’d all benefit. But if they sank, we did too.

And so I knew that my life wouldn’t get any worse if I got too rough. In fact, the reality was that it would get worse if I didn’t. The impression I got from Dad was that a lot was riding on our recapture of Infinity. I didn’t dare ask how she’d gotten lost in the shuffle. She was supposed to be under special guard for the past two years. Instead, she got put in with all the other girls who only had their bodies to offer for worth.

So I slapped Ellie around a bit. And fortunate for both of us, she decided to play along without a lot of hassle. Girls can put up a front—boys can too. But in our society, it’s easier for girls to give in and get with the program than it is for boys. People expect us to be tough, to withstand pain for a lot longer. The question I always ask is: what’s in it for me?

In the end, Ellie was very helpful. I pulled out a laminated map and had her show me where she had left Infinity. The quick thing would be to have a helicopter come in and pick us up and take us where we needed to go. But as my Dad preached to me all the time, we were short handed, and one had to do with whatever we had available.

In the end, it wasn’t that bad. Our squad got four oversized ATVs with big, mudder tires. When I saw them roll off the truck that brought them down from Ohio, I was jazzed. Guess I still have a little kid in me. But as I looked around at my soldiers, I couldn’t help but notice that a few of them were grinning as well.

We mounted up—three to an ATV—with one driving and the other two with weapons drawn. I rode the first vehicle with a driver and Ellie coming along. We took off out of Harmony headed west about four in the afternoon.

Ellie directed past the hill where they had camped, up to a levee and across to the other side. She pointed out the half-submerged sign that read: “Despond, Tenn., population 322” and the submerged town beyond. I circled my hand above my head and we all shut off our ATVs.

“Sir, it’s getting close to dark,” my squad leader said in accented English. “Do you want to make camp?”

I sighed and looked out at the water. Dad wanted her right away, but the sun would set in less than half an hour. It would be hard going in the dark, especially if fog came back in as Ellie had described.

“Split the team,” I finally said. “Send out some scouts to reconnoiter the area. The rest of us will make camp. Maybe one of our scouts will get lucky.”

“Crazies,” Ellie said, a nervous tic in her voice. “There are crazies in the area.”

I heard my men laugh, and I realized that if I showed too much concern, I would lose their confidence.

“We’re pretty well armed,” I said. “I doubt anyone will bother us. We’ll still put some pickets out.”

Our scouts went out with orders to return in an hour. By that time, we had set up base camp right next to the water’s edge, and had Ellie cooking for us. When the hour was up, three of the four scouts returned.

“Where’s Chin?” I asked the squad leader.

The sergeant grilled the other three, then turned to me.

“Private Chin was to patrol the waterline directly north of here. He checked in on radio twenty minutes ago.”

Radio
, I thought, kicking myself. I lifted my receiver to my mouth and spoke.

“Bandit four, Bandit four come in,” I said. “Private Chin, report.”

No answer.

“Private Chin, this is your lieutenant. Report, please.”

Still no answer.

Then, in the gathering darkness, I heard a long laugh, and a howl.

 

That night we lost three more men. The place I had found to bivouac was a poor location for a camp, but a good location for an ambush. The people that Ellie had referred to as crazies were apparently men who had lived in that country their whole lives. Two years of starvation and humiliation turned some into servants of their new masters, but the crazies went a different direction. They decided that none of the old rules applied anymore, and anyone who was out after dark was fair game for them.

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