The Reckoning - 02 (53 page)

The old man sat with me and spoke to me. I couldn’t make out the words. I was delirious from the pain. I was also running a fever. He continued talking or possibly singing until I passed out from sheer exhaustion. I slept and didn’t dream.

This continued for days. I don’t even remember how many. There would be questions that I refused to answer followed by beatings. Later, the old man would come. This became my entire world. The only driving thought in my brain was “tell them nothing.”

One night, the old man didn’t come. I mourned him. I figured that they had caught him trying to sneak in to see me. I hung there, weeping for an old man whose name I never knew. I refused to let it break me. I knew without his food and mud, I would likely die today. His care and mercy had been the only things keeping me alive. I was ready to let the suffering end. It was time. I would go to whatever end knowing I did not betray my family and friends. At least there would be that for me to hold on to.

When the door to the barn opened, I almost jumped for joy thinking it was the old man. The men that entered were like nothing I expected. There were five of them, clad head to toe in camouflage. Their faces were blacked out with dark colored pigments and their mouths were covered in digital camo shemaghs.  They were all armed with assault weapons and fanned out to clear the barn.

One broke away from the others. They all walked carefully to avoid making noise. When he stood in front of me and looked up, I could see the color of the eyes. They were the pale blue of glacial ice. Tears welled in my eyes as Spec-4 removed her shemagh and boonie cap. There were tears in her eyes.

“Oh my God, Wylie,” she whispered
, her voice breaking. “What have they done to you?”

I wanted to answer, but my throat wouldn’t let me form words. My mouth was beyond dry and I was fading in and out of consciousness. I was afraid that I was dreaming until one of the other figures in camouflage removed his cap and shemagh. It was First Sergeant Gregory.
He looked at me like he’d seen a ghost. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“Let’s get him down and get out of here,” he whispered.

They cut me loose and lowered me gently to the ground. Spec-4 poured water from a canteen into my cracked mouth. I gagged but drank several mouthfuls. Then I reached out my hand and grabbed the First Sergeant by the shirt and pulled him closer to me.

“I told
them….nothing,” I croaked. “Not…a…fucking…thing.”

“We know,” he assured me.

Then I passed out. I had the sensation of movement for a few minutes, but then nothing. I was dead to the world. I just wished I could see the looks on their faces when they came back in the morning and discovered I was gone. I wonder who the Boss was going to blame. I hoped it was Patty. Let her have a turn in the hoop.

“There is no greater love than this.

There is no greater gift that can ever be given.

To be willing to die, so another might live

-- there is no greater lover than this.”

- Steven Curtis Chapman

April, date unknown

             
When I opened my eyes, I expected to find that I’d been dreaming and I was still hanging in the barn. Relief flooded over me when I saw Maddie’s smiling face looking down on me. I felt no pain and knew I had to be drugged. I tried without success to lift my arms, but I could tell that they weren’t restrained. I was on
good
drugs.

             
“Don’t try to move too much,” Maddie said, touching my forehead. “You need to lay still and heal.”

             
“How…” I rasped. “How long?”

             
“How long?” she repeated. “How long did they have you?”

             
I just nodded slightly.

             
“Specialist Wilder was gone for six days,” she said, gently. “They had you for a total of nine.”

             
“Nine days….” I muttered. “That long?”

             
“Wilder made it back here by herself, after escaping,” said Maddie. “She was determined to go back for you.”

             
“How bad is it?”

             
“Shockingly,” she said, “I think you’ll heal, in time. You’re going to have more scars than any one man should have to bear.”

             
“How soon can I get up?”

             
“I think we’ll play that one by ear,” she said. “You need time to heal from all you’ve been through. I expected to find both of your arms torn from their sockets and useless. Now, I don’t have an x-ray machine to double check, but they appear to be fine.”

             
“Why am I so sedated?” I slurred.

             
“With the amount of damage you have,” she said, gently, “there would be no way you could even lay on your back without screaming. You were savagely beaten. It looks like they used a whip or a cat ‘o’ nine tails.”

             
“Whip,” I replied, wincing.

             
“I thought so,” she replied, a dark scowl on her face. “Who ever did that to you deserves…well…they deserve far worse than any curse I dare utter.”

             
“Thanks, Maddie,” I said, smiling.

             
“Don’t thank me,” she replied. “Thank Specialist Wilder, Deputy Southard and those Rangers. They’re the ones who went back for you.”

             
“I’ll thank them, too,” I promised.

             
“Do you feel up to some visitors?” she asked, smiling.

             
“Yeah,” I said.

             
“There is a small army of people who want to come in and see you,” she replied. “Don’t over do it. If you get tired, I want you to say so. You need to rest.”

             
“I will,” I assured her.

             
“Liar,” she said, smiling. “I’ll be watching you, though.”

             
The first to come in was Karen and the boys. They were all crying as they gathered around my bed.

             
“Wylie,” whispered Karen, “I just want to hold you, but the doctor says not to touch you. She says you’re covered in wounds.”

             
“I’ll be fine, babe,” I whispered. “You know me. I’ll be right as the rain in a day or two.”

             
“Promise?” she sobbed, barely resisting the urge to grab me.

             
With a supreme effort, I lifted my hand and took hers with trembling fingers. I’m not sure if the trembling was her or me. I squeezed her hand in mine and she pressed it to her face. I could feel the warm tears as they rolled down the back of my hand.

             
“It’s going to be alright,” I whispered.

             
We sat together for a while until I began to fade into unconsciousness. Each time I faded back in, there was someone else sitting in the chairs around my bed. When I saw Spec-4 sitting beside me, I could tell that she was asleep. It had to be late in the night. I realized that the medication must have been wearing off. I was more alert and I could easily lift my arms.

There was pain throughout my body, but it was a pain I could ignore. The faint smell of earth was in my nostrils, but I attributed it to being underground. I also had the aftertaste of apple in my mouth and on my lips. Strangely, I felt stronger. The wounds would heal, but there was strength in my limbs and resolve to finish the fight in my heart. The
Freemen
wouldn’t sit idly by waiting for us to come to them.

Without either
me or Spec-4 to torture for information, they would assume we would be coming back with reinforcements. They would want to hit us first. I wanted to be ready when they did. Let the Sons of the Apocalypse face the Sons of Odin. This time when we faced one another, the man known only as “the Boss” wasn’t going to walk away. This time, we would finish the game.

Spec-4 woke up when I stood up from the bed. Her eyes went wide with shock to see me on my feet. Her lips trembled and she tried to speak.

“Wylie….,” she stammered.

“They’re coming,” I said, with strange certainty. “We need to be ready.”

“How do you know that?” she said, almost in a whisper.

“I’m not sure,” I replied,
“but I’m as sure of it as I am of the sun coming up in the morning.”

Maddie came hustling into the room, drawn by the sounds of our voices.

“What in the Sam Hill are you doing out of bed?” she demanded, reaching for a syringe on the counter.

“Maddie,” I said, my tone firm, “don’t do that. I can’t explain it, but I trust my instincts. They’re coming.”

Maddie looked at me like I was crazy, before Spec-4 spoke up.

“I’d listen to him, if I were you,” advised Spec-4. “When he gets one of those feelings, he’s been right enough that we listen to him.”

“Then we’ll call the others and tell them to go on alert,” said Maddie, “but you need to get your tail back in that bed.”

“No,” I said, with
sudden strength.

Maddie and Spec-4 both looked at me, surprised. Even I was shocked by the sudden strength of my voice.

“Maddie,” I said, gently, “I assure you, they are coming. If I’m wrong, you can sedate me and strap me down. If I’m right, I have to be there. I have to face this.”

Reluctantly, she nodded and sat the syringe back on the counter.

“Thanks for believing me,” I said, smiling.

“I believe that there’s more going on here than I understand,” she said. “By rights, you shouldn’t be able to lift your arms, let alone stand and fight.”

“I’ll need new clothes and gear,” I said, turning to Spec-4.

“I knew where they were keeping our gear,” she said. “I was able to grab everything but your sword.”

I smiled and flexed my fingers. I was happy to hear that she’d rescued my stuff. Most of it was replaceable, but I couldn’t bear the thought of any of them with my hammer and Army Colt. Those were special to me.

“Would you mind grabbing me some clothes?” I asked, smiling at her.

“Well, you can’t very well go in that gown,” she replied, heading for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

I sat on the edge of the desk and waited for her to return. Maddie came over to me and stared at me with a mixture of sadness and concern on her face.

“I’ll be alright,’ I assured her.

“I hope you’re right,” she replied.
"It kills me to think of everything that they did to you."

When Spec-4 made it back with my gear, I was glad to have the distraction. Maddie was worried about me. She was a trained surgeon, so if she had concerns they were probably well founded. I, however, only had this feeling that I was needed and either the fortitude or the stupidity to see it through. I got the feeling that if I was wrong, I wo
uldn’t be around for her to say “I told you so.”

Thankfully, both women excused themselves while I got dressed. I discovered something, then. Just because I was mobile didn’t mean I didn’t feel the pain. The fabric against my whip tracks was excruciating. I turned my back to a mirror on the wall and craned my neck to get a look. The lines on my back looked like a city map of blood-red lines. I could see where some of them had already begun to heal. They still hurt, though.

I managed to get dressed without screaming, but it was a near thing. Slipping into my body armor was an experience. The rigid plating was like rubbing the wounds with sandpaper. It took longer than usual for me to put all of my gear on, but I had expected that. I was just starting to think this might not be the best idea, when I picked up the Army Colt.

Gently, I drew the old beauty from the holster. It was just like I remembered. I quickly checked the load and found it ready to go. Half-cocking the hammer, I spun the cylinder. It whirred with a satisfying sound. Then I lowered the hammer and slid it back into the holster. As I buckled it back around my waist, I felt my resolve strengthening again.
I was ready.

Grabbing the rest of my gear, I headed out the door. Spec-4 was waiting for me with a smile on her face. She handed me my M-4, but didn’t release it when I took hold of it. Then she locked her ice-blue eyes on mine.
The look of concern on her face was clear.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked, staring at
me for any sign of doubt.

“
I’m sure,” I said, smiling at her.

“Alright,” she said, breaking eye contact. “That’s good enough for me.”

She was fidgeting with something in her pocket.

“I was waiting to give this to you when you were better,” she said, smiling. “But I think now is as good a time as any.”

She removed her hand from her pocket and held out my badge, the one that said “Sheriff” on it. I thought it was long gone. I assumed that the
Freemen
had taken it.

“Thank you,” I said, taking it from her reverently.

“No problem,” she replied, smiling.

“I made a promise to not let this fall,” I replied. “I plan on keeping that promise.”

“I know you do,” she replied.

“While we’re alone,” I said, “do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said, “name it.”

“How did you escape and get back here?”

She stepped back and leaned against the edge of a desk. She seemed to almost shrink into herself. She hugged her arms tightly across her stomach and looked down. I could see tears in her eyes.

“Hey,” I said, lifting her chin with my finger. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s alright.”

“No,” she said, her voice quivering, “I need to tell you.”

“OK,” I said, and stepped back to let her talk.

“You knew I was hurt, right?” she asked, looking at me.

“Yeah, I knew.”

“I had a mild concussion,” she said. “They didn’t have a doctor, but they did have a guy that used to be an EMT. He told them that I had severe brain damage and thought I was in a coma. He told them that if they tried to interrogate me, it would kill me. I just kept still and let them believe he was right.”

She reached into her pack and drew out two bottles of water. She tossed me one,
and then took a long drink off of the other. When she finished, she fidgeted with the bottle in her hands before continuing her story.

“I was safe, so long as they thought I was
in a coma,” she continued. “I was in a room that faced the barn. I could hear them beating you. I could hear the sounds of the whip hitting your flesh and hear your screams. It was the most horrific sound I’d ever heard. I wanted to come rescue you so bad, but I knew that if I moved they would torture me, too. At night, when they didn’t check on me as much, I would stare out at the barn hoping to get a glimpse of you.”

She sat the bottle on the desk and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have come for you, then.”

“You did the right thing,” I said, gently. “I couldn’t have withstood watching them torture you.”

“One night, I heard the guard outside my door snoring,” she said. “I got out of bed and crept to the door. He was sound asleep. I killed him with his own combat knife. Then I took his clothes, boots and gear and headed out into the night. I wanted to come get you right then, but I knew that you had to be hurt severely. I couldn’t carry you and get us both to safety. So, I did the only thing I could do. I snuck over the wall and headed southwest.”