Path of Jen: Bloodborne (24 page)

Deep South frowned at her as he considered
what she said.
“More likely, they’ll lock you up in a secret
prison cell and try to one-up the bad guys in virus making,”
he
thought. “Yeah, maybe so. Well, one thing’s for sure; we don’t want
to be out here alone. I’m going to call in an NBC alert on this
compound and see if we can link up with some friendlies up the road
a bit."

He used the Sat-Phone to call in their
position, and he gave an abbreviated report of what happened. Jen
noticed that he didn’t say anything about her role in the deaths of
all of these men. He simply reported her as a civilian.

“
Dear Lord, I hope I can trust this man.
Did you send him to save me? I sure hope so…”
Jen prayed
silently.

Ten seconds after Deep South hung up the
phone it started to buzz. He answered it. Jen couldn’t hear the
voice on the other end, but she saw Staff Sergeant Parks’
expression turn black. “Roger that, we’re moving,” he said. He
tossed the phone on the dash and grabbed a pair of night vision
goggles from under his seat. He slipped them over his head and
switched them on. After a few looks up and down, he dropped them in
his lap and slammed the SUV into gear. He spun the tires pulling
out of the compound. They drove without headlights down the dusty
gravel road. When they were about two hundred yards from the
compound, Deep South picked up the night vision goggles and slipped
them back over his head. He didn’t pull over or slow down.

Jen reached for her seatbelt and tried to put
it on, but kept getting short pulls from the bouncing. She waited
for a smooth spot and was able to pull it out far enough to pass
over her waist and click it into place.

Jen stared at the rough looking soldier next
to her. He was a big man, strong and handsome. She noticed earlier
that his eyes were as intense as they were attractive, and it made
her wonder,
“What made them that way. What terrible things had
he seen?"
He glanced at her with the strange, sci-fi looking
goggles and she turned away briefly. After a moment she asked,
“What was that about? Is something happening?”

Deep South grunted and kept driving. He
looked at her questioningly for a second, and then turned back to
watch the road. It was hard to make out facial expressions in the
dark, but he had a scowl on his face and Jen thought he looked
conflicted.

“What is it?” she asked again. “Please, tell
me.”

“You’re going to see for yourself in just a
minute or two, I’m afraid." He pressed harder on the accelerator
pedal. Jen held on as they slid around a corner on the dirt road
and continued on, leaving a cloud of dust behind them in the dark.
From here, she could see the highway, and a column of headlights
coming from the west.

She looked at Deep South and asked, “Is that
what the call was about? Are those enemy soldiers? Is that an ISIS
convoy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “To all of it.”

They bounced up onto the highway about half a
mile in front of the convoy and Deep South pushed the SUV as fast
as it would go. Jen couldn’t see the road in the dark so she closed
her eyes to avoid freaking out.

“Look,” said the Staff Sergeant.

Jen opened her eyes and still couldn’t see
anything in front of them. She checked her mirror and gasped. A
long line of headlights was behind them. Jen turned in her seat and
tried to count. “I count at least ten trucks,” she said. “No,
wait…more like twenty!" She sat back down and asked. “Can we outrun
them? What are we going to do?"

Deep South grinned and said, “Look
again.”

Jen turned to look behind them again and saw
the convoy turning north onto the same dirt road they had just
left. “They’re heading to the base!” Jen said with excitement.

“Yep,” said Deep South. “I’m gonna pull over
for a minute. It’s about to get really bright out and that’s not
cool when your wearing night vision." He slowed and moved to the
south side of the road before swinging the SUV in a tight u-turn
and facing roughly toward the compound. “This is gonna be a good
show. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Jen stared at him in disbelief. “There’s a
whole convoy of bad guys super close! Why are we stopping?" She hit
him on the arm and shouted, “What if they turn around?”

Deep South chuckled and pulled the night
vision goggles off of his head. He handed them to her. “You wanna
take a look?” he asked. “Just make sure you take ‘em off as soon as
you see the freedom birds.”

“Freedom birds?” Jen asked as she looked
through the goggles.

“Watch the sky to the north and east. You
should see ‘em coming just before they light this place up." Deep
South chuckled.

Jen turned to look out of her side window.
She was about to ask for more specific directions when she saw
flashing beacons approaching unbelievably fast in the grainy-green
sky. “Wow, these goggles are awesome!” she said. There was a flash
from each of the beacons and streamers shot toward the light green
compound. The goggles were snatched off of her head just as the sky
lit up. “Hey!” she complained.

“Trust me, you don’t want to see that with
the goggles on. It’s way too bright,” explained the Staff
Sergeant.

The sky was flashing brilliant orange and
yellow, and explosions were flooding the compound area. Jen had to
admit, she was glad she was watching it like this rather than in
shades of green. “Awesome!” she laughed with excitement. “What were
they? The airplanes, I mean.”

“Fast movers. Sometimes it’s drones, but
those were F-22’s,” he explained. “Okay, we should get rolling. You
good?" He switched on the headlights and spun the vehicle
around.

“I’m good,” Jen answered. “But how can you be
sure those F-22’s won’t start shooting at us?”

Deep South pressed the accelerator and they
sped off down the highway toward the east. “We’re the good guys
remember? We have IR strips on the roof that shine like lights for
those guys. They know who’s blue and who’s red,” he said.

“Blue and red? You don’t make any sense,
Staff Sergeant,” Jen said shaking her head.

“First of all, you’re not in the Army. It’s
fine if you just call me Dustin, okay?”

Jen looked at the big soldier for a minute
while he stared ahead at the road. “Okay, Dustin. Sounds weird to
call you that, sorry. Maybe if you call me by my name too? Call me
Jen okay?”

“Okay then. You got it…Jen. So the short
version is, blue means good guys, red means bad guys. The Army
speaks a whole different language, so if I say something weird,
just ask,” Deep South said with a slow southern drawl.

Jen liked his accent. She was suddenly glad
it was dark because she knew she was blushing. She covered her
mouth inconspicuously with her hand and looked out of the window.
Jen was grinning, and she couldn’t help it.
“I haven’t felt this
close to normal in two years!”
she thought.

It was mid-day and Jen had her window down.
It was cooler with the window up and the air conditioning on, but
there was just something about driving with the window down that
felt like freedom. Dustin didn’t seem to mind, so she kept it down
and let her hand float in the wind just outside. Jen remembered
playing like that when she was a girl. She imagined her hand was an
airplane flying next to the car, and she moved it up and down with
help from the wind.

Her clothes felt dirtier now that she was
sitting still in them for so long. The salt from days of sweating
was making white patterns in the fabric of her shirt, and her
collar was stiff and chaffed her neck. Jen considered how much more
comfortable she would be if she could unbutton and shrug out of the
men’s shirt she was wearing. She imagined how good it would feel if
she were just wearing the thread bare white t-shirt underneath. The
problem was that the outline of her bra could clearly be seen
through it, especially since it contrasted with her tan skin. She
suddenly flashed with anger at the thought of Dustin ogling her in
her t-shirt.
“Whoa, where did that come from?”
she
wondered.

She rolled the window up and sat back in her
seat to let the air conditioning work its magic on her. Still hot,
she stripped the hijab off of her head and tried to forget about
the uncomfortable clothes. “Dustin? How much farther until we reach
a safe zone?” she asked. They had talked off and on most of the
night as they drove, but Jen was starting to get nervous about what
lay ahead.

Deep South glanced at her and swallowed. He
looked back to the road. Her skin was perfectly smooth and the
color of light honey. Now that she removed her hijab he could see
that her hair was chestnut brown with sandy highlights. He pictured
her carrying an AK47, looking like a female soldier of fortune. He
whistled softly.

“Why are you whistling? Did you hear me?” Jen
asked. She looked at him with a quizzical expression.

Deep South nearly choked. He hadn’t realized
he whistled out loud. “Uh, sorry. I mean, I think we’ll be in
friendly territory in a couple of hours,” he said nervously. The
awkwardness kept coming out. “Whew! It’s hot in here. I’m thirsty.
You thirsty? Let’s stop and catch a break. We need to gas up and we
might as well stretch our legs, huh?”

The vehicle pulled over to the side of the
road and Dustin immediately got out.
“What the heck is getting
at him?”
Jen wondered, feeling self conscious and a little bit
irritated because of it. She opened her door and stepped out to
walk and stretch while he retrieved a five gallon jug of gasoline
from the back and emptied it into the fuel tank.

She walked along the roadside, away from the
front of the vehicle for a few yards and then back. Dustin was
still filling the gas tank, so she continued walking past the rear
of the vehicle for several yards. She stopped and began stretching
her aching muscles.
“Oh man that hurts,”
she thought as she
stretched her back and then her chest. She continued stretching her
sides, her abdominals, and then her hamstrings. Finally, she sank
into a deep side lunge on each side to stretch her groin and
bottom. She stood and said, “Thank you Lord,” as the warm sun
washed over her face. She stood still and enjoyed the moment of
piece and the feeling of closeness to her creator.

Deep South was aware of Jen as she walked by
to the rear of the SUV. He tried not to look at her as she passed,
but it didn’t last. He turned his head to watch her while he held
the fuel jug suspended above the filler port. “Dear God,” he
whispered. When she stood and closed her eyes toward the afternoon
sun, he shook his head. “Beautiful…”

“What was that?” Jen asked, turning back
toward the SUV. She walked toward him with a questioning look and
he nearly dropped the fuel jug.

“Um, I said we’re about full.” Deep South
pulled the spout out of the filler port and replaced the gas cap.
He lifted the nearly empty fuel jug back into the vehicle and
slammed the hatch closed. He gritted his teeth and chastised
himself, “
What the heck am I doing? She’s freaking eighteen!
Plus, and a hell of a lot more importantly, she’s carrying a deadly
disease!”

Jen returned to the truck and hopped in.

Deep South didn’t say a word. He just walked
around to the driver side and climbed in. The vehicle started at
the turn of the key, and he steered it back onto the road. He
clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead as he drove. After a few
minutes, he seemed to relax a little, and Jen asked if he wanted
some water.

“Yeah, thanks Jen,” he said and he tried to
accept the plastic bottle she held out. He watched his hand nearly
connect with the bottle, and then grasp nothing. The bottle floated
and rotated before being eclipsed by a haze of smoke and debris.
There was something familiar about this experience. He wasn’t
afraid, but he knew it was bad. He felt loss and sadness tempered
with a tightening in his chest and a hardening of his will. This is
something he had lived through before.

He felt his body being shaken like a rag
doll, and finally slammed to the ground. His head exploded with
pain and panic almost got the best of him as a feeling of being
trapped underwater flooded over him. Instead of panicking, Deep
South went through a familiar exercise to focus and ground himself.
He took inventory.
“Can I breathe?”
he wondered. He couldn’t
hear the air filling his lungs as he inhaled, but he felt his chest
rise easily enough.
“I can breathe. Can I see?”
he asked
himself. He blinked away the dust and soot and opened his eyes. He
saw glass and twisted metal all around him.
“I can see. Okay,
can I move?"
He tried to move his arms and found them sluggish,
but obedient to his commands. He tested his legs. Something wasn’t
right. His legs moved, but barely. And he felt searing pain in his
right thigh when he moved it.
“Okay, stop moving for now. What
do I hear?”
he asked.
“Ringing and the ticking of fatigued
or heated metal,”
was his answer.
“What do I taste?”
he
asked. “Blood,” he said out loud. “What happened?” he asked as he
looked around.
“IED,”
he realized.

He looked around again to survey the damage.
That’s when he saw her. “Oh no!” he shouted. “Hey, Jen! Can you
hear me?” he called out. “Jen! Are you okay?" Crumpled against her
door, and suffering many superficial lacerations was Jen’s body.
Deep South watched her for signs of breathing.
“There!”
he
thought.
“Her chest is moving!"
He started to reach for her
and stopped. The whole center of the SUV was torn out. There was a
gaping hole in the floor between them. It looked as if someone or
something had punched the transmission up and out of the vehicle
with one mighty blow. Ignoring the sharp edges and hot metal, Deep
South reached across to Jen’s side. Just before he touched her arm,
he froze.
“Blood,”
he thought.
“Damn it!"