Worry and concern kept every notion of sleep from my grasp. I haven’t slept at all in over two days; I didn’t want to sleep. I propped my feet on a table while Rachel laid on the bed. Her slight breathing was all that pierced the deafening silence. I wasn’t at all surprised by her unconscious state. Though, as she neared 48 hours, I grew more concerned that she may not awake at all. The bandits gave her quite the beating. Though the town seemed quiet, I made sure that any infected or bandit that dared to attempt entry into our refuge would be met with disaster. An automatic rifle lay on the table next to me, ready to be fired at a moments notice to ensure our safety. In the meantime, I battled the pressing desire to sleep with beef jerky and some magazines I found at the local grocer. Who’s who, tabloid gossip, the hottest celebrities, local news; it all seemed so trivial now. My eyes grew ever more heavy just before sleep washed over my body. The events of our escape that I so desperately wished to forget came flooding into my mind before my eyes fully shut.
******
Blood flowed from his nose as a result of the punches I landed trying to obtain the information I desired. I tied his hands using some zip ties I found on his companion's dead body. His resistance only served to fuel my anger. His quivering body led me to believe that he was about to crack. He was surprisingly strong for a coward.“Tell me!!” I shouted as I slammed another fist into his abdomen.
He released a violent cough and spit some blood as he slumped to the church floor. A light whimper escaped his lips. My anger slipped into rage. An infected man heard my shout and began to bang on the closed church doors, injecting a new idea into my mind. With clenched teeth, I yanked him to his knees and spoke in a slow angered tone, “You leave me no choice but to feed you inch by agonizing inch to that infected man outside the doors unless you tell me what I need to know.”
Though he continued his whimper, he remained silent.
“So be it,” I said as I wrenched him to his feet and threw him against the door. The infected man intensified his attempt to enter the church.
“Come on!” I loudly threatened.
“Stop!” he screamed through labored breathing before breaking down into a sob. “Prigor. They took her to Prigor.”
I peeled him from the door and let him fall to the floor. I glared at him and motioned for him to continue.
“Our camp is located at Prigor, 3 miles North East of Cherno.”
The rest of the information flowed out like a broken garden hose. There were fifteen bandits in total, twelve after the two I killed and the one I captured. I leapt to my feet and began rummaging through the equipment for anything I could use. While I searched, the bandit decided to share his life story. Though annoyed, I listened anyway. His name was Ben, Ben Reid. The bandits had taken him and his wife captive. When she refused to join their cause, they beat her to death. Out of fear of receiving a similar treatment, he joined them. He rambled on about regret toward cowardice and wishing he could go back and make a different decision. Abigail's many words on redemption echoed throughout my head. She always could see the good in people. I released a mournful sigh at her memory and mustered up a small inspirational speech about redemption and atonement, in her honor. She would have been proud. My speech, to my surprise, actually convinced him to help me. I hated trusting a bandit but I couldn’t rescue Rachel on my own. Twelve to one aren’t the best odds, however, the two of us, a plan, and the element of surprise could very well win us this battle. Two communication units, military grade remote detonated explosive devices, ammunition, and their weapons were all that I had to work with. As I surveyed the equipment, my rescue plan formed into a beautiful masterpiece. Using the vehicle left behind for the bandit's return to the Prigor base, Ben would drive right into their fenced base, with me in the trunk, and park in an inconspicuous area. After leaving the trunk unseen, I would then place the remote detonated explosive devices underneath any other vehicles to prevent their pursuit. Ben would distract the other bandits while I found Rachel and set her free. The three of us would escape in the car and detonate the explosives after leaving the area, thus destroying their capability of pursuing as well as drawing in every infected nearby for them to deal with. We set the plan in motion. I only hoped it could be accomplished as easily as it sounded.
******
The engine of this old jalopy hummed with a sputter. It was difficult to hear anything over the loud engine and the enclosed trunk in which I resided offered an increased feeling of claustrophobia. My mind raced with regret and my chest weighed heavily as if every dark possibility of betrayal and/or failure I could imagine was already in progress. Our speed decreased as we rounded a corner. The many scenarios rolled through my brain. Would he betray me? Where might this plan go wrong? How will I die tonight? Will I be tortured instead? I didn’t much care for pain. Our speed decreased into a stop with a soft squeal of the brakes. My nervousness peaked when Ben lowered the window to speak. The scenarios I imagined flooded back to me. Their speech was muffled due to my being in the trunk. An eternity of a moment later, we began to move again into their base. Ben parked and exited the vehicle. Five minutes past before I even dared to move. Using a safety latch, I opened the trunk ever so slightly to see several men gathered around Ben, welcoming him home. Apparently, they thought him to be dead. I had to give him credit, though. He knew how to draw a crowd. They followed him off to a point I could no longer see. I carefully lifted the trunk and slowly climbed out, trying desperately to remain silent. The noisy old shocks on the car were not my friend. Finally outside, I grabbed my AK rifle, utility belt, and lightly closed the trunk and surveyed the camp. The night critters were loud in song; almost deafeningly loud. The darkness of night enveloped the entire area, casting many shades of black and grey across the landscape. Though full, even the moon had difficulty illuminating the earth. The soft moonlight glow gave me enough light to distinguish the looming shadows of the few buildings within the fences. Behind me stood several tents that appeared to be supply tents. They had parked their vehicles in the center of the enclosed area. Opposite of me stood a house with a guard tower on top, though it was not occupied. A small military barracks laid to the right of the house. Several silhouettes marked the windows of the lit barracks that cast a slight glow on the surrounding area. I noticed a second gate to the rear of the base as I past by the vehicles. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves as I tip-toed my way to the house keeping an eye out for any guards I may have missed. I placed a few of the explosive charges underneath the vehicles on the way. I snuck around the left side of the house to avoid the soft light from the barracks. I gazed through the two windows. One lead to a dark room with several stacked shelves and containers. The second window showed a larger room. The flickering glow from a fireplace fire eerily illuminated the room. Two people stood inside. I also noticed a rope hanging from the ceiling and tied around a pair of handcuffs. I saw a person in those handcuffs. Though slouched, the person was nearly dangled in an upright position due to the rope and cuffs. Unless the bandits made a habit of taking people, the person in the cuffs was Rachel. I peered around the corner of the house to see a man standing guard at the front door. I turned to inspect the windows for openings or weaknesses. I chose the window to the room full of shelves. It was old and difficult but I was able to spread the bottom window from the top just enough to slide the combat knife from my belt to unlatch the lock that held the bottom window closed. It took some work but, finally, I was able to raise the old window and carefully place my rifle inside. Next, I climbed through the window as well. It wasn’t as easy as I remembered so many years ago when I would sneak out of the house when my parents grounded me. Once inside, I made my way to the door and cracked it open. Down the short hallway, the two men were listening to some type of Russian music. Suddenly, the window squeaked. I cringed in fear and tried to catch the window before it slammed shut. I failed. The music suddenly lowered in volume followed by the hushed tones of the nervous men. The floorboards creaked as one of them neared my door. I grabbed my rifle, hid myself behind the door, and grabbed my combat knife from my belt once again. The door slowly creaked open and a flashlight beam pierced the darkness of the small room. He entered, carefully scanning with the beam.“What was it?” one man called from the other room.
“There’s nothing back here but old shelves.”
“Good, get back here. My fishin' story ain't gonna wait forever!”
The man shook his head and started to back out. Before he could, I launched myself from behind the door and clamped my hand tightly around his mouth. I then drove my knife into his throat and pushed outward. He struggled in pain and to be released. I continued my strong grip on him as I carried him to the ground, preventing a loud noise when he finally died. His thrashing ended and I pulled his body from view behind some shelves. I caught a glimpse of my hands in the dim light. They were drenched in blood.
“Hey! Where you go?! You ain't gettin' out of my story that easily, punk!”
He gave up waiting and walked down the hall to the room. A simple repeat of the previous method ensured a quick and quiet death for the second bandit. I searched their pockets and recovered the keys to the handcuffs. I grabbed my rifle and quickly yet quietly ran down the hall toward Rachel. It was a grotesque scene that appeared even worse in the firelight. She looked quite terrible and bloody, as if she had been tortured. Why they wanted to capture her; torture her, I couldn’t figure out. I unlocked the cuffs and cradled her in my arms as she slumped to the floor. She was delirious from the events of her capture.
“Please… I beg you… Stop. Just kill me,” she whimpered softly.
“Rachel, it’s me. Michael, from Cherno,” I responded, “I’m going to get you out of here. I need you to stay with me.”
I placed one arm under her shoulder to help her stand. I discovered a back door I didn’t notice from the outside. I unlocked the door and we left the house. Almost to the car, a loud shout emerged from the house. The guard from the outside must have gone in and discovered the dead bodies and missing prisoner. The barracks suddenly turned into a frenzy as the door burst open and several men poured outside, scrambling toward the house. The last man out headed toward us. I raised my rifle expecting to have to use it. Just before I fired on him, he revealed himself to be Ben. He helped me load Rachel into the back seat of our jalopy. We looked up as one of the bandits spotted us, called out, and began heading toward us with his rifle extended outward.
“You are a good man, Michael, better than I,” Ben said as he tossed me the keys, “Your mission here is complete, mine is not. Now go!”
He grabbed the detonator, raised his rifle, and began spraying bullets toward the house. The other bandits joined in the fight as bullets pinged off of the bodies of the vehicles with a metallic twang. I fell into the driver seat of the old car, fired up the engine, and took off, bursting through the rear gate as bullets hit the car's body. Suddenly, a large explosion rocked the countryside with a piercing sound as the light of a hundred fireplaces lit the landscape in every direction. I couldn’t help but feel remorse for Ben. He was a hero in his own right, although, he didn’t know it.
*****
I awoke from my slumber, disoriented. I held my hand up to block the sunlight that trickled warmly through the boarded window. My eyes took a moment to adjust from the darkness of sleep. I took a death breath of stale cabin air and sat upright, running my fingers across my eyes. Rachel began to cough as her eyes opened for the first time in two days. She eyed her surroundings carefully then let loose a slight grunt as she turned her head to face me and asked with a weakened voice, “What happened?”
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