Terms For Survival

1
John Ward sat on his post remembering what being an American once meant. The night was quiet, as there was no movement from the insurgence. The rebels weren't bad people; just people looking for something they once had. They wanted to wake up in the mornings, and then go to their respective jobs. Provide for their families the way society had done for decades. None of them wanted to battle other Americans for land, food, and shelter, but that was the way things had become.
There was no law across the land, and there was no military to defend the United States anymore. Not that there was any foreign threat to defend America from. The military presence died off shortly after the oil ran out. Highways and interstates just sit there like monuments. The military vehicles were among the last to travel on what had been the best transportation system in the world. Technology had peeked in 2015, and from that day forward everything went backward in time.
In 2031 life was back to the most primal form. The stronger and more intelligent groups, conquered the weaker ones, and no single individual could survive alone. Hiding from the various groups didn't get you fed, and settling down would surely get you found and killed. Women and children could only find protection in a group. Street to street grouping, became town to town, and eventually state to state. Smaller less effective groups formed, but were destroyed by the larger and more powerful. When Martial Law failed society, the growing revolutionary groups began to try to piece the nation back together.
John knew every day was like the one that had passed. Defend what is yours, and find what you don't have. At the age of fifty-one John had seen his loved ones die, from violence, sickness, and for reasons he didn't know. He'd lost everyone, and clung to the group for some sort of identity. He liked to think they needed him, but if he was killed on his nightly watch nobody would really care. There was no longer any symbol of freedom to be found.
The religious groups got stronger, and the lost people who were looking for answers joined them. The vast number of traveling bible bangers couldn't be defeated. In most cases they only got stronger as they moved into unwelcome territory. The leaders of the church still held more power than the common group. They'd built a universal alliance across America. The church built power as the government fell. When society grew feeble the churches merged into a moving force. Those looking for guidance found it through religion, and so did the lonely looking for a safe haven. The fact that they could explain what was happening through the bible, made believers out of hundreds of thousands. When they said the end of times, the population could finally relate to the message.
Not everyone liked the moving powers of the church, but everyone knew the power they held within their tyrannical following. When they came in shouting their friendly offerings, groups were forced to entertain them.
John could remember the feeble attempts for alternate energy applied by the government and millionaires. He could remember the 'Go Green' slogan in the final decade of the old world. The electric cars that only the rich could afford. It was an incredible invention, and it might even have saved the upper class of society, but the middle to lower class would have perished. When martial law went into effect, there were battles among the upper and lower class. There was the old saying that John couldn't remember where it came from, "History repeats itself, but every time it does the price goes up." Some of the people weren't affiliated with the rich government, and they weren't affiliated with the lower class. Many were killed in the cross fire, but others found a side.
By 2019 the second revolutionary war was in place. The year before secrets leaked out about the government killing Americans. The entire country was in total disarray, but there were groups of hundreds headed for Washington D.C. There were parts of the communication system that had been cut off. Radio was not one of those. When the military bombed Indianapolis, Indiana, the death total was in the thousands. Nobody knew why they started there. Over the years it was said they were aiming for Chicago first, but something went wrong. The public perception was the rich trying to do in the poor. When they fired the first shot the war had began, news didn't travel as fast as it had, still everyone knew within twenty-four hours.
The groups had been formed. They took on huge numbers as they went into battle, the military was not nearly as strong against their own people. Many of them couldn't see themselves killing their own people. Those were the ones who deserted their position. It wasn't a battle for freedom, it was a battle for survival. It wasn't hard in those days to find acceptance in a battle against the military. In six years of intense warfare the American public had taken over. John remembered when the government wanted to take the guns away from society, and that was before any kind of crisis hit America. Both sides lost lots of men when the earthquake destroyed California.
Buildings that were built to withstand a massive earthquakes tumbled to the ground. Millions of people died in that disaster. In the old world people would have come to each others aid. That didn't happen with the ongoing battle taking place. Money was worth nothing, and everyone had raped the markets for everything they needed. The supplies were not as plentiful as first believed. Firepower had been greatly reduced by time the government was no more. What had become of the world seven years after the war ended seemed just as tragic.
Groups that had grown to defeat the government, and soon they were battling each other. The ammo ran thin to nothing by the time the groups began a war among themselves. Some of the smaller groups merged with the lager more powerful communities. Many of them didn't in the hope that order could one day be restored. The more powerful groups were battling for dominance, and the religious sector was decimating the smaller groups. You either joined them or you died, there was no other option when they invaded the town. Those willing to fold their position were given a place among the religious machine. If you fight with them, then you'd fight for god. If you choose not to fight for god, then you're fighting for the devil.

2

John thought about the day his son Ben was born. It was May 13, 2003, and the best day of his life. He'd just been named manager of the plumbing supply shop in Hendersonville, Mississippi. No it wasn't a very big town, but Memphis, Tennessee was just an hour drive away. The medium sized surroundings were just what John thought was right for raising his son. When Ben was born there was an overwhelming sense of fear inside him. Only the simple ways of Hendersonville could assure his worst thoughts wouldn't come true.
The events of September 11, 2001 were still fresh on John's mind back then. The big city life seemed all too unsafe. The salary at the plumbing supply shop had been less than he could make with his college degree, but the sense of safety the small town provided was the deciding factor. What was a couple hundred-dollars compared to complete happiness. Not to mention he'd gotten the three bedroom, two bath, house for a song and dance. Although it needed some slight renovation the great price was still one helluva deal.
By the time Ben was born his room was completely refurbished, but other parts of the house still needed work. In 2008 as Ben started school the house was completely finished, and that included the additions they'd added onto the existing structure. There was a minor hint at the impending recession. John had no idea they were one year away from some major setbacks. They'd been forced into tapping into the college fund they'd secured for Ben. In 2010 John was forced to take a large cut in pay. The economy wasn't being friendly. The family had to undergo some changes.
John took on side job preparing people's taxes. His background in accounting he was thankful for. During the year soldiers were coming back from the middle east, the stock market had shown signs of improvement. In Mississippi it didn't feel like there was an improvement. Everywhere in Hendersonville there were people looking for work. The economy might, or might not have been on the rise. The employment rate was down, and had been for over a year by the time 2011 rolled in.
The down period had closed many factories and small businesses across the country. Other companies and cooperate powers grew stronger than before the recession. Factories that had populated small towns across the country were not going to ever be operating again. The few that did remain across the country greatly reduced their manpower. People who'd worked these factories for forty and fifty years, people who'd put their blood, sweat, and tears into these factories were lost. Thousands of empty buildings stood as a reminder of what once was.
There were nice homes all through Hendersonville. Beautiful houses being sold for half of their expected value. It had been that way as far back as 2007. John could remember how he and Nikki, his high school love were going to spend the rest of their life. It was suppose to be something beautiful, and they were suppose to grow old together. Yet somehow they began to grow cold with each other. Ben could see they were having a difficult time, although their best efforts to keep it from him had holes in it. All was not perfect in the Ward family, but nothing is ever totally perfect.
Religious cults popped up all over the country when the 2012 conspiracy theorist came out of the woodwork. It's possible that was when they began gaining strength; that would make them a powerful force in the years to come. Quietly mass numbers of people were beginning to follow the word of the gospel. They seemed to be predicting the future in a way that made them seem like modern day prophets. The words the powerful leaders spoke came across as the truth. The 2012 end of the world scenarios drove people to places they might not have been. The doomsday theory that had been in place since at least 2009 created some of the radical religious groups, but there had been hundreds of dangerous underground suicide religious groups. Nobody ever saw them coming, when they did, it was too late.
When December 12, 2012 didn't bring on the end of the world, it managed to bring on a new and unpleasant world, that wasn't fit to live in. The attacks were small skirmishes at first. However, all too soon they'd become more violent. "Your government wants you dead." People began protesting and holding signs. Murders and violence had become common place by 2014. There was something noticeably different around that time, although the impending war was three years away. The suicide bombers began blowing up government ran facilities. They're actions were directly connected to the end being the beginning. They were doing what God wanted them to do. It was the Apocalypse that the Bible predicted. It was happening the war between good and evil.
By 2016 the war was only one year from happening, but people knew it was going to occur. The battle lines had been clearly drawn, and the Government, or New World Order wasn't backing down. They weren't trying to explain their lies anymore. They knew the public knew everything. The country was over-populated, and they believed by reducing the total number, the remaining portion of society could survive. To insure life continued in America millions of people had to die. The year before the war began both sides began to build towards total violence. Preparing to give it there best shot.
The second Revolutionary War began in 2019 when the government hit Indianapolis with a bomb. Well that's what most people say, but many feel it had been going on by then. In many ways it had been happening long before then, but nobody acknowledged it for what it really was. It wasn't just the suicide bombers, because thousands of groups of radicals had invaded government controlled areas. Engaging in conflict with the New World Order was their only purpose. Martial law hadn't been effective, and in many ways the government knew it wouldn't be.


3
John had not seen his wife and child since before the war. He lived most days with a lonely sick feeling, one that told him he might never see them again. He didn't know if they'd been killed, captured, or if they were searching for him somewhere out among the craziness that encompassed America. He hoped they were alive and well, but if they weren't, he just hoped they died quick and without pain.
Out of the shadows Jason walked up holding a bottle. The boy wasn't trying to scare John, but he did manage to startle him bit.
"You goddamn little shit, don't sneak up on me." He didn't find the humor in the situation.
"You weren't sleeping on the job, were you?" Jason asked, but not that it really mattered. Their town hadn't been under any type of battle in three years. Lost in the wilderness of the Mississippi Delta.
"No. I wasn't sleeping on the job, but don't guess I was doing a good job either way."
"Are you thirsty? Here get you a drink of this." John took the bottle from Jason, and knocked-off a big shot of it.
"Holy shit...that's some strong whiskey." John was caught off guard. It was not like the weaker stuff he'd been drinking the night before.
"Old man Jim has finally perfected his craft."
"Yes, he most certainly has. Can you go over there and get me a bottle? Do you think he's still awake?"
"Sure, he's awake. I'll go get you one before they're all gone." Jason said.

There was something strange on the night, and John could feel it. May it was the fact that he'd been thinking about his family. Those were thoughts and memories he tried to avoid when he could. It wasn't that he didn't want to remember the good times, but to do so hurt him so badly. Sometimes he'd even cry. John couldn't be sure the reminiscing hadn't created the feeling. Even with a good solid drink in him, he knew something was wrong.
Jason had come back with the bottle. John tucked it into the pocket on his bag. There was no intention on drinking it excessively on the job, but knew he'd enjoy it latter at home. John knew he'd go home, get drunk, and start thinking about his family. He also knew the macabre thoughts would enter the question too, because they always did. Sometimes he would think about suicide, but he could never bring himself to do it. That would be giving up, or calling it quits, and John was a fighter.
As the sun lit up the open meadows, and the changing of the guard took pace; there was a horse galloping toward the main gate. It was the messenger, and he was also there to deliver bad news.
"There is a large group moving this way. They've already taken out two towns the size of yours. For your own safety I advise leaving the area. They'll rip you clean of all your things, but you'll still be alive."
"We appreciate the heads up, but we ain't running from them. We fought for this land, and we won it. Even though our numbers have fallen since then, I still like to think of us as too strong of a force for someone to overtake. Everyone here are fighters, because that is the only thing we know." Chris Duncan replied. He was the head guard during the day. He was also the guy who'd make the decision to run or fight.
John found him to be arrogant, but at the same time he knew Chris was a warrior. In his mid to late thirties, he was in his prime. John knew he could have taken him out if he'd been that young again, but not the fifty-one year old man he'd become.
"I think you should listen to the man Chris. If they took Meridian, than what chance do we really stand in battling them?"
"John, I honestly expected more out of you. We cannot, and will not let them take what is ours."
"Do you not care that they'll wipe us off the map?" John asked.
"Sacrifice, that's what it is. Their is a price to be paid for being free, and it's right now that we're being asked to pay that price."
"There ain't no shame in staying alive." John said, and with the most spite he could muster. He couldn't believe that the little bastard really wanted to risk lives, and against a moving force that left them at a disadvantage.
"Save all the fight with pride bullshit. I have been in this world when fighting for something meant something. When people had a choice, and where the enemy wasn't our own people."
"No...you listen here John. I am the one who decides when we engage in combat, and now is that time. This beautiful village we've built is ours, but you can bet it won't be if we walk away from it now. I can show you some old-timers that stood their ground to keep it. This is not a democracy, nor is it up for a vote." Chris was becoming angry. He could not believe the defiance of one of his best guards.
There was nothing easy about heading up the security for the village, just as there was nothing simple about making decisions that put them at risk. Chris felt very firm in his choice to engage in combat. He understood that John was a wise soldier from the Great American War. In no way did he think of him as a coward, although his suggestion seemed cowardly to say the least. Part of him was thankful that John didn't make the decisions on battle.
Word had spread about the possible battle, and a handful of people inquired about the possibilities of war. Others didn't believe their source of information, and merely brushed it off. Chris was going to bring them to the square for a meeting, but not for a discussion on whether combat would be necessary. He was trying to speak with the men in the village first. He didn't know if John was going forward to the people, but he wanted to state his case first.
John had spoken to a couple of people, and there were a few who agreed with him upon hearing his case, but half of those would favor Chris by the time the meeting at the square had taken place.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we're brought here tonight because the village is going to be under attack. The force has taken Meridian, and are coming after us. We are not going to stand down, or let them have are community. However we are going to have to fight hard and use everything we've got. When we break this meeting you will go to your designated spot. You have done the drills a hundred times, only this time it's for real.
"Spotters, your going to be vitally important. If we are going to defeat them, then we're going to need as quick a jump as we can get. I know we're out-manned, and maybe even as much as three to one, but I believe we can conquer them. They're moving into out turf, and we know this land better than they do. We all knew this day would come, and we've prepared for it. Get with your squad leader, and God be with you all." Chris concluded, and stepped back into the building.


4
With the light of the morning sun, the spotters could see the coming group moving through the mountainside. The elderly and women and children were tucked away in a safe bunker. John was not in the first line of defense. Those guys ran right into their deaths. By the time the opposing group had made it into the village it was too late. They could no longer make a run for it, and some realized they weren't going to win. John aborted his post, and put his life on the line to fight back.
The enemy rode by John on horseback, and he noticed the man had a shotgun attached to the saddle. Things rolled through his mind at a rapid speed, and the one thing that stuck was the gun and horse. He knew they had horses in the village, and he knew there wasn't enough to match the hostile group. Chris had some guns, but he didn't have enough for half the men. John knew that some really good men had probably already died. The sounds of battle echoed through the village.
John threw his knife into the back of the man on the horse. He didn't know if the shot he'd taken would pay off, and he approached the guy as if he were still alive. The enemy stooped forward, then rolled off the left side of his horse. He was dying, but John quickly moved in on the guy. He pulled the knife from the enemy's back, and then stabbed him to a certain death. The eight inched fixed blade did massive amounts of damage. It ripped golf ball size holes in the guy. John stabbed and twisted the blade, then pulled it out.
The next move was simple, corral that horse, and get that shotgun. It had been a long time since he'd killed someone like that. Part of him seemed to enjoy it, while another part was repulsed by the entire situation. Something had clicked inside him. Maybe he knew he was going to have to kill his way to safety. He'd been in combat before, and he'd lost his family in the process. John wanted to live, but he was ready to put that life on the line. He was ready to do whatever it took to survive.

Chris was not yet willing to call his idea a failure. Sure some good men had died, and some of them he called friends, but he found it all to be necessary. He didn't understand the melting pot of emotions going on inside him. The sadness fueled the anger, the regret fueled his determination, and he had no intention to surrender. The battle had not gone the way he thought it would, nor did he realize the opposition would have more firepower. He'd envisioned a more level battlefield.
Peter Jent a senior guard stood in the door way. "You're not thinking about giving in, are you?" He asked.
"No!" Chris replied quickly. The battle had gone on for almost an hour, and although there were good men dead, they seemed to be in control. They had eliminated hundreds of men, but the town had lost just as many. There was another calvary coming behind the first wave of soldiers. There were ten-thousand in that group. Chris was down to maybe seventy-five men, and half of those were teenage boys.
"What's going on out there, Peter?" He asked.
"We've lost a few men I wish we had back, but I do believe we are holding our ground against them." Peter replied.
"We've got to find out if more soldiers are coming. Peter, I want you to go find Samuel Archer. He knows his way around here from his duty as a hunter, and nobody can get atop of that hill quicker than he can. If there are more coming, than we'll need to retreat."
"We've acquired some weapons off the enemy, but we couldn't stand another round of intense battle like that first one." Peter informed him.
"OK, go find Samuel Archer quickly, and then we can find out where we stand."

John had rode the enemy's horse over the side of the hill to look out ridge. As he raced back to tell the others that more soldiers were coming. Time was short, and by the time he crossed paths with Samuel Archer, too much time had passed.
"Arch, they're coming as we speak. If Chris doesn't want to leave, then we're going to have to escape with whomever is willing to go."
"How close are they now?" Samuel asked.
"We've got to go as fast as we can." John answered. They turned their horses toward the village, and rode as fast as they could toward the watch tower on the north side. The second wave of soldiers trailed them by maybe three hours, and some would get there quicker. When they arrived at the north tower, John went in to deliver the bad news.
"The second group of soldiers are just on the backside of the hill, you have to report this to Chris."
"Shit, he's not going to like this." Kevin Delmar responded.
"To hell with what he likes, we're going to all be killed if we don't move out of here. Are you going to do your job, or am I going to have to do it?"
"No...I'll do it, but he thinks we're winning this battle."
"I figured he thought he'd made the right move. You report it like I told you, and not because I didn't agree with his decision, but because it's the truth. Those men are coming, and they will totally wipe us out."
"Where are you going John?"
"I'm going to tell everyone at the safety bunker to prepare to evacuate."
"Chris isn't going to like that."
"Fuck what he wants, those people have a right to know." John said, and then walked out of the tower.

Chris didn't like the news, and even furthermore he didn't like it that John had found out before Samuel. He could easily believe Samuel, but perhaps John was trying to get people to follow his idea fleeing the village. He still called the evacuation, and it was too late. People moved into the swamps south of town. Groups got separated from each other, and when night fell on them everything became worse.
Some of them were eaten by hungry gators in the marshes, some drown in the water, and others were too sick or old to make it. The landscape was rough and harsh, and tested the survivors to their limits. Chris had seen alligators eat his fellow people, and he'd seen the untimely deaths. His feelings were conflicted. He thought he'd done the right thing, but his walking through the deadly marshes, and seeing his people die, all of that made him question his actions.
"I tried to make it possible to live peacefully." Chris tried to explain to the others he'd became separated with. Some of them believed he did what was right, and others were unwilling to follow his commands anymore. Kevin Delmar from the north tower continued to follow Chris, and tried to get through to some of those who no longer did. They were almost split down the middle about it, and they were the larger of group of the scattered village.
There had been small fights within the group, and later in the day they were all captured by another small group south of Hendersonville. Chris would have rather died in battle than to be captured. To make the matter worse, just a day earlier his group had been strong enough to destroy them. Caught in an ambush and forced to surrender. Kevin didn't think it was his fault they were captured, and believed in Chris even from within his concrete cell.
John had better luck with the smaller group, and due to the fact that they'd headed fifteen miles south-east of Hendersonville. Well clear of the group that captured Chris, and south of Jackson by forty or fifty miles. They had made it through the night, and the land hadn't been nearly as rough on them. They'd gone around the swamp, and the larger group went through it. The swamp had been a barrier between the two groups, but had unknowingly been broken.
There were two more groups who were captured south of Hendersonville, and west of the swamp, by the group that they'd been in combat with. Many of them were taken back to the village in Hendersonville, and tortured or killed. Some of the younger children were kept to be raised in the group that took Meridian and Hendersonville.
"I wonder what happened to all the others?" Patrick Dezney asked John. The second night had been rough as a thunderstorm rolled over them. They'd remained lucky to have not been captured after two days.
"I don't know Pat, they've probably been killed." John didn't realize he was talking to a kid. Patrick had always acted like a man, but he was a boy worried about his parents and siblings. Patrick began to cry, No John was probably right. John felt a little sad too, because it was true, and he'd thrown it on the boy hard.
"Look Pat, I had a wife and child. I lost them back when the American War started, and I know how it feels to lose your family, but you are still here. In honor of them you have to live boy. Go on to become a man, and do something good for yourself. You would be making them proud by surviving." John tried to smooth things over with his own story, but questioned whether he did any good.
The whole incident had changed the way Patrick looked at him. John had hurt his feelings to a degree, but it wasn't what he said, it was how he said it. Patrick had already figured his folks were dead, and John put it bluntly. The boy respected him, because he told it like it was, and didn't sugarcoat it one bit. However blunt Patrick found him to be, he didn't tell the boy they were better off dead. Otherwise they were being tortured, beaten, and raped.


5

The group had found a couple of old buildings near the Mississippi-Alabama state line. They'd been staying there since the third day of their escape. John, Patrick, and Samuel Archer left the other seven people and went hunting. The group was hungry, and the best three hunters and gatherers went out for food. Patrick was just a child, but he was very accurate with a bow. He'd more than proved he could hunt.
When they returned to the two buildings they found the others dead. They were beaten and slaughtered. Throats cut, heads busted open, and multiple stab victims. Marianne Shelby had an arrow through her head. Her pants were pulled down, and her naturally red pussy hair was showing. John figured she'd been raped before death. Then he realized that the three of them could be danger. Where were the people who killed them?
"We need to be real careful, and slowly get out of here." John said quietly. Patrick and Samuel did just that. The three of them had their hunting knives out, and ready to inflict damage on anything that moved. Outside the sun was going down. They knew that could be dangerous for them. They backed away from the buildings into the brush, and found themselves hiding places for the night. Carefully they listened to the sounds from the woods. You can hear everything in the silent forest at night.
The next day they got moving toward the river. They hoped to use the river to get away from the area. Although there was no solid plan on what they'd use for a raft. They'd come across an old school house, and realized there was a group of maybe fifty people inside there. Most likely that had been the group that had left them to three strong, but revenge was not option. They would have been killed, and nothing would have come from it.
Samuel was starting to wonder if they'd make it to the river. They'd escaped what would have likely been death, and he wondered how long their luck would last. Where was the next group? How many were there between them and the river? How far away was the goddamn river? It was not in his nature to worry the others with his fears, but he knew they had to know that surviving another day was beating the odds. The only thing they'd eaten was one rabbit between the three of them.
The three of them were out hunting, and Samuel knew that they were the most resourceful, but they were just three men. There small group stood little chance of survival, but just three of them was as good as dead. He looked at Patrick, and he wondered what the guy must be thinking. He was a strong kid mentally and physically. Samuel never knew him back at the village, but he'd really come to like the boy a great deal. He didn't want to see the boy die. He hoped he wouldn't see the boy die.
John knew both of them back in the village, although the circumstance had shown them more about each other. There was a new level of respect among them, and it had bonded them together in a way that only something horrible or great could do. In some kind of strange way they loved each other, but none of them referred to it as such. The three of them had become family. Nobody wanted to see one of them die. Could they make it to the river? That was the only question in their minds.
Patrick was afraid of what might happen to them, but he was not nearly as worldly as the other two older gentlemen. They were worried about what they'd seen happen, and Patrick's wild imagination had him afraid. What you don't know can be more scary than what you do. What the youngster didn't know in this case was probably for the best, and the two men tired to shield the boy from the worst parts of it. He'd seen the other members of the group slaughtered. He knew what could happen to them.
"Do you think they'll chop are heads off if they catch us?" He asked the two older guys. The question caught them off guard, but with his natural straight-forward approach, John fielded the boy's macabre question.
"Yes, Yes they probably will, or maybe even worse. That's why we've got to work hard to not be seen. We must keep moving south. The cold hard truth is...our life depends on it." He looked into the boy's face for fear, but he didn't see it there anymore. John wondered if the kid had become weathered to the situation.
"I think if we keep moving in the direction we've been going everything will be fine." Samuel added to the conversation. "We're moving in the same direction as the old highway beyond those trees over there."
"Where does that highway go?" Patrick asked.
"It goes down to Billoxi, Mississippi. Down to the Gulf Coast." Samuel answered, and then thought about how strange it was that the boy didn't know that. All the kids knew that road when he was a child. 'Vacation highway' he remembered his dad calling it.
"Why do you think it'll be any better down there?"
"Well I guess I don't really believe that, but I hope it will be better there. Because if it's not any better, well it's the end of the road either way."
"What do you mean by end of the road?" Patrick asked.
"If we manage to make it that far, then we'll be lucky, and in no shape to go on any further." Samuel explained.
"But the food is plentiful down there, and we can recover well, if we make it that is." John added to their talk.

They continued to move through the rough southern Mississippi wilderness. When they'd come across an old house, or found a safe place they'd rest. There was a lot of distance covered between those places. Their feet and legs hurt them, they were physically exhausted, and yet they pushed on because their life depended on it. The terrain was rough, but there was a beauty about it that couldn't be described. The three of them climbed down into the reven, and then up the rocky draw.
"Hold it right there, and I won't shoot you before we speak." None of them saw the older man, but he was there with a double-barrel shotgun in his hands. He stood above them on the edge of the large embankment. They realized the man was alone, or so it appeared. They could have ran, or dangerously tried to overpower the single person.
"Hold it Sir, we are not Rebels, soldiers, or a militant group." John tried to explain.
"Who are you?" The old gentlemen asked.
"We're from Hendersonville. Our group was overtaken by hostiles." John answered quickly and honestly.
"Where were you three headed?"
"We honestly don't know." John said, and was trying to keep the man from killing them.
"This ain't no kind of place to be lost, that's for sure."
"Well we were headed to Billoxi, but couldn't find a way across the river." Samuel jumped in.
"No, since the bridge fell ten years ago people have stopped coming this way." The old man didn't want to shoot them. John and Samuel could see that he didn't, but Patrick was still unsure. He couldn't read the man like they could.
"You fellas look hungry. Since you ain't hostiles, why don't you come back here with me to my place." Harold Sanders hadn't seen anyone in a long time. John, Samuel, and Patrick, they didn't know what to make of the offer. All of them realized the old man could be walking them into a trap. They were also hungry, and the man seemed to be trustworthy. They talked it over for a moment, and then asked him to bring them some food back. They'd hide and wait for him to return, and they'd watch him come back.
Harold came back alone, and he had bread and vegetables. The three of them ripped into the food like a pack of wild dogs. "Now why don't you come back to my place." He again made them an offer. It wasn't yet dark, but the better part of the day had come and gone. They were hurting and exhausted. The food filled them up, but the truth was they were too tired to keep moving. They followed Harold back to his place. If it had been a trap, then they were giving in.
"I honestly don't know how you managed to make it this far, but you are the first people I've seen in two years time. That over there where you came from was a national park, but how you survived going through there now is beyond me. That group just north-west of there, that group up there are a bunch of cannibals. If they'd have caught you, then you'd have been eaten like an animal." Harold continued to talk as they moved along.
"Did you say cannibals?"
"Yeah, they've been there since right after the war. Food supply got low, and they took to eating their dead family members. Then they began hunting people out in the terrain searching for new land. People that know about them stay clear, but you guys were lucky just walking right through there."
"There were ten of us, but a group killed the other seven in an ambush. Maybe that was who killed our people." John explained to him.
"They live in an old school house, and your lucky to be alive. If you didn't see the old school house, a big building, then you're even more lucky. Because they hunt the surrounding area on a constant basis."
"What keeps them from coming to get you?" Samuel asked.
"The national park you guys crossed. See back in the old world I owned this entire piece of property, but now I'm forced out in the corner of my old land."
"Wow this is a nice spread." John said.
"It was very beautiful at one time, but not so much now. The weeds are tall, and everything is grown over. Time is cruel to everything." The old man said, as he walked them into the comfortable little house in the corner of the pasture.
The place was small, and not nearly as full of useless junk as John expected. The man kept a very nice place. There was an old wood burning stove beside some chairs.
"You boys are welcome to stay here and rest awhile. There's enough room there on the floor to make you a bed. It's got to be better than sleeping in the woods." The three guys took him up on the offer to recover.

That was all John wanted to do, recover and relocate. If his family were still alive, his son would be a grown man, and he couldn't be sure he'd recognize him or his wife. It was easier to just believe they died peacefully. He knew that he would never see them again.


6

John and Samuel were checking out the map. They'd stayed two weeks with Harold helping him as much as they could in exchange for a place to sleep and eat. There were many thing a guy his age couldn't do, but the things that he could got done routinely. The men were going to have to leave, and part of them didn't want to. For a moment they'd tasted their old ways of being free. They'd constructed a raft out of logs and rope from the Kudzu covered barn in the back of the field.
"The map says the river will take us right down the mouth of the Mississippi. If the raft holds up on the river, then we have a chance to make it out to the islands just off the coastline." Samuel pointed it out to John. The raft had been constructed down by the river, and was ready to be dropped into the water.
They were leaving behind a safe haven of sorts, and were again moving out into a violent and deadly world. When they departed they wondered if they just left their chance to maybe live. Harold was an old man, and he could have definitely have used them. There was a guilty feeling for abandoning him, but he'd made it alright before he met them. John thought that both had done favors, and that they ended everything on a square note. "We're better for having Harold." Samuel had told Patrick.
The river level was still high from two days of rain fall when they took off. They had poles and ores to help guide the vessel, which was holding up well in the swollen river. The three of them found no trouble in navigating the raft at first, but when the waters got rough it tossed them around. All of them were afraid of what nightfall would bring. They wanted to get as far as they could, and maybe try to dock the raft for the night. Guiding the vessel at night would be dangerous.
The river was moving swiftly below the well built raft. It was bounced and tossed around on the powerful rapids. Patrick was afraid and the other two men were more than concerned themselves. There were handles built into the raft for holding onto in rough water, and sandbags to help slow the vessel when needed. None of that helped them nine miles from where the launched. The raft hit a rock that sent it into a spinning motion, then it flipped in the rapid moving water.
It wasn't quite dark, but if they could have gotten the craft stopped, then they'd have taken a break for the night. None of them could see each other, and they all swam toward the riverbank. They were not close, but could see the trees off in the distance. That gave them something to swim toward as dusk fell on Mississippi. John and Samuel tried to find Patrick who couldn't swim very well. They were being swept down the river as they tried to swim to safety. It was farther than they thought, and they knew that Patrick couldn't have made it, as it was a test for two great swimmers.
John had made it to the bank, but there was no sign of the other two guys. He shouted for them, and searched for them, while also being careful of his unknown surroundings. He slept on the riverbank that night, and was searching for them with the morning sun. Unwilling to give up; he searched the day away looking for them. Then spent a second night in the remote wilderness. He was sad, because he had come to care for them like he'd cared for his family. The night was used getting it all registered in his head, and accepting that like his family they'd never be seen again.
When they hadn't comeback by the next morning John left without them. He thought about going the nine miles up the river to Harold's place. Maybe if they survived they'd try to go back and find it. John wasn't even sure he could find it. The river had moved and turned, and he wasn't even sure which side of the river he swam to. Harold's house could have been nine miles up the other side of the river. Maybe they'd swam to the other side of the river.
John moved carefully through the woods, and had found the local group's compound. He approached it carefully. As he got closer the place looked abandoned. Soon he realized the village had been wiped out. Nobody had been there for a long time. After checking out the land, he'd work back down to the river. There was still no sign of Samuel or Patrick. He was never going to see them again. He began to walk back up the river where he thought Harold's house was.
He was confused, afraid, and upset with losing two close friends. He knew their odds of survival were low, and he wondered how things could have been. It was a classic case of second guessing. Without them his odds of survival became zero. John began telling himself that he wouldn't go easy, and that he'd force them to kill him to spare the torture. Nobody was tracking him, but he knew that could change quickly. There could be a group anywhere in the area. Just hiding and observing him.
Was going back to Harold's house a good Idea? What if he couldn't find it? There had to be someone tracking him. John saw no way the area could be clear of a group. His mind began playing tricks on him. He thought he heard the sounds of feet moving in the brush. There was nobody following him, and there wasn't anyone in the woods beside him. John knew there was nobody there, but he couldn't convince the voices in his mind of that, so he wasn't completely sure that someone wasn't there.

John walked up and down the side of the river, he was looking for his friends, Harold's house, or anything he could find. After nine days alone there had been no discovery of anything. The groups he thought would be working the river were not there. He began to think about staying. Harold had created a nice spot, and was able to do so because nobody populated the area. Somewhere in the deepest thought that night, he decided that he was going to stay there. At least for a little while.
He didn't admit it to himself, but he was staying there for the same reason he'd stayed so long in Hendersonville. He hoped to see his friends again, just the way he hoped to see his family again for all those years. The boldly honest part of him said, they will never be back, but there was hope in his heart. There were human feelings that John could not turn off. Things that have been bread into humanity since the beginning of time. Other feelings that he held within were changing.
John found himself thinking less about his lost friends, and more about what he was going to do. Everyday he would work on building his place. He took lumber from the deserted village to build his own. With flat pieces of ply-wood he made a sled to pull lumber to his desired spot in the woods. John began to build an elaborate house. It was connected to a large oak tree, and he built it like a watch tower.
From inside the living quarters at the bottom, he could flip the roof back, and then exit up a ladder to a section built in the top of the tree. The way it was built into the hillside allowed him to see for miles. It took a long time to complete the work, and it had been a year since he'd arrived there, although he knew nothing about time. Everyday was like the last one. The sun came up, and the sun went down. Sometimes it was hot, and sometimes it was cold. He'd almost forgotten what the old world was like.
Even if John had been able to find Harold's house, the old man didn't live another month after they left. Nobody found him, and he wasn't killed. The old man's body just gave out on him. Harold died there in his chair in the front room. His body decomposed fast in the summer heat. The animals were unable to get inside his house, and if John had found him, he'd have either found a rotting corpse or bones scattered about the chair. It wouldn't have been a shocking incident, because the guy was very old in terms of the hostile world he lived in.



7

There had been a time when John wasn't violent. Being alone with nothing but what he built made him different in many ways. It exposed parts of him that he didn't know existed. He'd become willing to die, and he would kill anyone who tried to infiltrate his zone. John had cut out his place, but he knew it would not be impossible to find. He would kill someone, just like he did in the war. He wanted to kill someone. It needed to be proved to the voice that doubted him. Not everything in his mind was good.
John could easily see now how a group could turn to cannibalism, because there were savage thoughts constantly going through his mind. There were things missing in his life, and he knew not having someone to talk to made the voices stronger. He'd hardly call them imaginary friends, because they were absolutely not friendly. They knew what he was capable of, and they pushed him to limits he didn't enjoy going to. The pleasant thoughts were hidden in the past. The one place he didn't want to go.
There was a group that had been moving along the river, and John watched them pass by. They couldn't see him, however he'd climbed in the tower and saw then long before they got close. There was a voice in his head telling him to defend what is his. John knew trying to attack that group would only lead to death. He watched them carefully from the upper and lower levels of his hidden tower. They were just passing by, they're not after me, they don't know where I am, and I don't need to attack them.
"You are no warrior, I think you're afraid to defend yourself." The voice inside his head didn't only say, but used his mouth to speak aloud. There was another more comforting voice, though not as strong. "You're doing the right thing. Attacking them would be suicide."
John didn't want to hear neither voice, not the one that was challenging him, nor the one that was comforting him. He didn't want to hear them at all, and mostly because he knew they weren't real. The thoughts and voices came from a part of his mind that he tried to close off. It was something he tried to ignore. It was a demon of opportunity, and it took full advantage of his being alone.

There was one horse that had fallen behind the rest of the group. John grabbed his blade that he'd made himself. It was a long sharp lawnmower blade. He'd found it in the old barn behind Harold's place. He moved down into the clearing, but climbed up on a hanging limb beside the trail that followed the river. The part of him that wanted violence was about to get it. He planned on killing the straggler. It wasn't his fault, as they should have stayed with the group.
When the horse got in line with John, he jumped out of the tree, ripping the enemy from the horse. As he drew back the blade to cut the head off his victim, and suddenly stopped before dropping the decapitating blow. With the edge of the blade he pulled back the hood covering the head. He exposed dark long brown hair, and quickly realized the enemy was a female. He'd noticed that she hadn't weighed much when he took her off the horse, and suspected that it was probably a teenage soldier.
The horse had been spooked and bolted off down the path. Going with his original plan, the straggler would be dead, he'd have quickly retrieved the horse, and been off the path. The fact that his victim had been an attractive girl changed things. John allowed the horse to get away with a loaded shotgun on the saddle. However he took the girl back to his tower.
"Let me go, you low down mother fucker." She screamed violently at John.
"You shut your goddamn mouth." He shouted, then rared back as if he were going to slap her face.
"Who are you with?" He asked her.
"Fuck-off, you can kill me if you want to, but I'm not telling you nothing." The girl said, and John could see through her playing it tough. However he also knew what it was to be mentally done and willing to die.
"If you answer my questions, then I won't have to kill you." John told her softly. "Who are you with?"
"I've already to you that I'm not telling you nothing." She was again being defiant. Then John stood above her pressing the sharp blade against her throat.
"Now either you tell me who you're with, or I'm going to cut your fucking head off." John again spoke softly, but with intent to kill in every word. She could feel the blade against her neck, and wasn't sure that it wasn't cutting into her. Still she didn't break her silence. John removed the blade from her neck. He noticed she was crying, but also knew she was willing to die without speaking.
John took her to the top of the watch tower. She was tied to a 2x4 plank against the wall. Below he thought about what he'd done. Would they miss her and come back to find her? She was in the roll of a man, and he questioned why he didn't just kill her. She was a very beautiful girl. There was plenty of reason not to have killed her. He needed company around him, and she provided company that was aesthetically pleasing. She was a little bitch, but he knew she'd come around.
They were going to come back to try to find her, and John thought about fighting back or moving on. He'd even thought about letting the female go.
"What is your name?" John asked her on the second day, and she answered that question.
"My name is Lori." Her tone was still hateful.
"How did you fall behind the others?" She turned away, as if to say she wouldn't respond to that one. John was looking at her breast in the tight black shirt. She didn't have the best figure he'd ever seen on a woman, but she made up for it in looks, and she had an attitude to boot.

The group had come back to try to find her. They didn't know where they'd lost her, and they spread out to look for her. John had decided that he wasn't going to go anywhere. He'd built the place, he'd put the blood, sweat, and tears in it, therefore he wasn't going to be ran off. He'd watch for them to come back. He'd tell Lori what he was going to do to them, while sitting in the tower top where she was tied.
"I'm going to kill anyone who comes back here into my space. If you had of been who I thought you were, well you'd have been dead too." He explained to her.
"What? You didn't kill me because I was a girl?" She questioned him.
"No...I didn't kill you because you are a pretty girl. If you'd been ugly, then you'd be headless." He said, in a very calm manner.
"My man is the leader of the group, and he will not give up until he finds me. When he finds you, whether I'm dead or alive, I hope he cuts your fucking head off." She said, then she spit in his direction.
John left her tied in the tower when he spotted the first person coming back for her. He made his way down to the path, and when they came through he ambushed them the same way he'd done to Lori. This time it was not a woman, and he swung the blade splitting the enemy's head in half. Brains and blood poured out all over the ground. John drug the body over to the river, and used rocks to sink it. Quickly he grabbed the man's horse, and tied it up in the woods.
Back in the tower he waited for more to come looking, but there were no more. As night had fallen he couldn't see them, but all the same they couldn't see him either. John enjoyed killing the man on the path, and he welcomed more to come in his zone. The third day would bring nobody else in search of her. He laughed a little at how important she thought she was.
Her man was the leader of the group, but they'd been ran out of their home like John had been ran out of Hendersonville. The majority of the group had been killed in an intense battle, but one far more even than Chris had them engaged in. They were still overpowered and defeated. They didn't have the manpower to find their leaders missing girl. The search alone had them down five more men. Guys who never made it back, but were going to be severely missed.
John had brought Lori some rabbit he'd killed that morning, and he knew that after all the time that had passed, he didn't think they were coming back for her. The truth is that Lori didn't believe they were either. She ate the food that John had brought her, and he watched her. The way that she bit the meat with her pretty mouth, or the way she was sitting in the floor, John didn't know what it was, but he wanted her. He wanted to taste her, and he wanted to fuck her.
"What are you doing?" She asked, as he grabbed her by the arm. He rolled her over and pulled her pants down. He reached around and fondled her B-cup breast.
"Get off of me." She shouted, and tried to fight him. John was much stronger than her. He easily overpowered her. Lori's skin was so smooth and soft. His hands were softly caressing her, and just touching her had given him an erection.
"Don't, please don't do this to me." Lori begged him. He probably couldn't have stopped if she wanted to. She didn't want to have sex with him, but she was wet just the same, and John penetrated her doggy style. It had been so long since he felt that sensation, and he wondered if it had ever felt so good before. He was thrusting himself inside her.
"Please don't, please quit, just kill me." Lori kept repeating. John had gotten there fast, as it had been a long time, but he went about it again without stopping. He raped her for thirty minutes, and he enjoyed himself. Lori was left naked on the floor, and John pulled his pants up.
"I'll bet you haven't been fucked like that before." He said.
She said nothing, did nothing, she just lay on the floor sticky, wet, and violated. Things ran through her mind, but nothing more frequently than wishing she were dead. If she'd been able to kill herself, then she'd have committed suicide. He'd gone so long without raping her. She actually thought that there might be some good in him. She knew he liked her, and that he thought she was pretty, but she didn't think he'd rape her. John stood above her, as she lay on the floor crying.
He wanted her to love him, maybe over time she could have, but he'd betrayed her too soon. Although he waited longer than most men would have in his position, he still hadn't let the kind of time pass that she needed to accept the way things were going to be. John knew nothing of time anymore, nor did he care, because in his world there was only night and day. So she had been sexually taken, and she didn't want to have her pussy fucked. Her life could have been worse, there could have been no life at all.
The John that existed in the old world wouldn't have raped her. He was no longer that guy. There had been a time when he felt compassion for others, but he no longer did. When you put a caged animal back into the wilderness, it will either live or die. John made the choice to live. He knew he'd gotten lucky several times to still be alive, but he was alive, and he wanted to feel like a man again. Whether she wanted it or not, he wasn't going to deprive himself that chance.


8

John saw the man walking long before he'd seen him, and John could have killed the stranger, but the guy wasn't a stranger. The man was Samuel. "My God You Survived," he said to John.
"I could say the same about you." John didn't know whether he wanted to hug him or kill him. John had missed the protection that they'd had while moving around together, and he needed him, just as he'd needed Patrick, but he'd made it on his own. God had sent him the gift of a woman, and he was happy being alone with her.
"I got with another group. I thought you were dead John."
"Who are you with?"
"I'm with a group called The White Star, and they've sent me to look for some of our people that went missing." Samuel answered, and it was right then that John realized that he'd have to kill him.
"Who are you with John?"
"I'm not with anyone."
"Come on, we both know you can't live out here alone." Samuel said, and John almost swung the blade. He didn't know why he stopped himself, he knew he was going to have to do it. They were still looking for the girl.
"Well if they got lost they couldn't have survived out here alone."
"You've survived alone, right?" Samuel asked him.
"No girl could survive out here."
"Girl? John I didn't say anything about a girl. Do you know something about a lost girl?" Samuel pressured him.
There was no turning back. John swung the blade at his old partner, but Samuel moved out of the way, and was only nicked by the blade. His shoulder was cut, however with one swift move he tackled him. His bloody shoulder planted right into John's stomach-rib area. The shot he'd taken was a hard one. It might have even cracked or broken his ribs. Samuel was strong. John got off another swing from the ground. It cut Samuel across his ribs, and John tried to stab him with the blade.
Samuel caught his hand on the sharp blade as he punched John in the side of the head. His hand was bleeding profusely, but he swung it again, and caught John in the middle of his face. The two of them grabbed and fought for position. They rolled around punching and kicking. The blade had been dropped on the ground, and they were both trying to locate where it was. John couldn't believe how strong he was. He wasn't sure he could take him.
Samuel had wrestled free of John, and both had gotten to their feet. Blood was pouring from Samuel's shoulder and hand. The blade as well out of the way, and both me knew they couldn't get to it. Quickly Samuel went for his blade, and John ran toward him, then jumped up swinging from a tree branch and kicking Samuel in the chin. The kick was so hard that it broke his jaw and knocked him unconscious. John didn't even go for the blade. He moved in quickly and broke his neck.
John was not satisfied with his hand-to-hand combat. He knew he'd almost been overtaken, because he'd had the upper hand, and still almost was taken out. Angry and yet totally happy that he'd again escaped death, he cut the head off of his former friend and family member. The voice inside his head said nothing. It knew he'd just taken out a warrior. The voice of reason knew it had to be done. Everyone was satisfied with the end result. They'd live to fight another day.
Lori was shocked when he came in with blood covering his body. She wished whatever it was had killed him, but she didn't know what had happened to him. She didn't know that he'd killed two people who'd been out hunting for her. John however knew exactly what he'd done, and knew it would again be necessary, because they weren't going to give up looking for her. Lori meant something to them.

The group had found another following, and it was getting stronger. There was a religious group in Billoxi that was backing them with protection. John had no idea that they'd again be coming in mass numbers to find her, but they didn't know if she was still alive. Lori was loved in the community, and nobody wanted to give up hope. Time had not been on their side. The odds were she was dead, but because she was being kept hostage by John, had kept her alive.
Lori thought they'd never find her. She did realize that John had kept her alive, and for all she knew the blood on him was for her protection too. Slowly he was becoming something different in her eyes. There was no respect there for him yet, but he was kind to her, and he did treat her with a level of respect. He cared for her in a way that she was not receptive of, yet still could find the kindness in. In some bizarre way she knew he loved her. The feeling was not mutual.
Eventually she wasn't restricted to the upper tower anymore. John had decided that she was not going to run. There had been something between them the night before. They'd had what felt like consensual sex. For the first time she'd let herself enjoy him. Lori had given it to him; he didn't have to force himself on her, and somehow that made it special for John. It hadn't just been sex, the two of them made love, and then held each other through the night.
Lori wasn't in love with John, but she enjoyed being loved. She wanted to know love again, and she wanted to feel the feeling of being in love. There was something growing between them, and she thought about what might have been, but she also realized what had become of her. She was still alive, she had someone to protect her, and he'd given her life by not taking it, or free her in a moment when she wanted to kill herself. Lori could almost see the way he'd made her give into him.
John was strong and well built for a man over fifty. He knew how to enjoy himself sexually, and he knew how to please a woman. Having a beautiful woman like Lori made that easy. Still he could tell she hadn't come full circle yet. He knew he'd fallen for her, but he somewhat fell for her the day he didn't lop her head off. The first time he'd seen her beauty up close. He'd definitely felt something for her by the time he took her sexually, but after that he was more than sure that he had feelings for her.
Lori didn't feel like a victim, and she thought that John could very well be the last man she'd ever see. White Star had given her protection, but outside of the group she'd known what the world was like. The hate she'd once had for him was gone, as new feelings about him emerged in her subconscious. Part of her was thankful he didn't kill her, and another part of her had died the day she was captured. She had began changing since that day, and didn't even realize it.
When one human controls another, something happens inside the captive person's mentally. Lori saw John as the master of the situation. He did everything a father or husband would do to provide for their family. She knew he was providing whether she'd liked it or not, and she was becoming more fond of the way he handled things. There was good in John, where at first she'd not seen it. Maybe she could see the man he'd once been, or perhaps she saw the man she wanted to see.


9

There was something happening between John and Lori. She didn't exactly love him, although she'd come to understand him in many ways. She could actually sympathize with his reasons for taking her. Beside the fact that he was alone, he was also a man, and she understood that he'd been attracted to her. The world she knew wasn't civil, and never had been. If he took her just because she was a pretty female, or just because he didn't want to be alone, she had come to accept both reasons as legitimate ones. She could understand why he didn't kill her, and she could see why he'd have wanted a female to be with.
There had been changes between both of them, and there were going to be more. John had thought about leaving. He told Lori that he'd let here go free, but she began questioning whether she wanted out or not. The White Star group had shielded her from the evil world that was out there. She saw John as someone who was a survivor in the brutal world. He'd never told her that he was in a group. Lori thought he'd been alone, and she's always been told that you couldn't live in the world alone. Nobody can survive alone, but John had managed to do it.
John had been a part of something good. Hendersonville had stood longer than many groups did. There had been times when he'd dwell on the past, but he'd made a promise to himself to only look forward. He knew he could not indulge in what might have been. His life had depended on facing the obstacle at hand. Days had turned into months, and then a year into multiple years. Although John had no reference, or use for time keeping, he'd been alone for years. Lori had no longer had a concept of time, and she too had tried to forget the past.
Lori's stomach was starting to grow, and that was how the two of them figured out she was pregnant. They didn't need someone to tell them that a baby couldn't survive without the protection of a group. Raising a child in the rough was near impossible, and John had fully intended on letting Lori go back to the White Star group. He'd fallen in love with her, and he realized that releasing her would insure that the baby had a chance. John knew White Star soldiers were in the area, because he'd rode the horse to the river where he saw them.
They watched the sunset from the top of the tower, and they just talked about the future. Both of them wanted to keep feelings and emotions out of the conversation.
"I never should have taken you in the first place." John explained.
"But you did. You created another life inside of me, and if I'm to go back to White Star, then you must come with me."
"I can't do it. There is no way I could ever be a part of a group again."
"Again?" She asked.
"Yes, I was a part of a group before I got on my own. There's no way I could do it again after living like this. Being alone has shown me I want to be this way. I don't need people deciding what's best for me, because believe me I've had bad luck with it. Sorry Lori, but there's no way I could live like that again." John hoped she understood.
"Well what if I have become attached to this lifestyle, what if I told you I couldn't go back now either?" She used his logic against him.
"You had a life there, you have people there that love you. You have a man there that I've taken you away from. I'm sorry that I did it too. I had a family before the war. That's why I want you to go back to White Star. I cannot stand to lose anyone else."

Nikki had died in 2031, but Ben would go on to become the leader of White Star. The leader of the group can only be compared to a king. He could have his choice of woman, and any parent would be glad to give him their daughter. There was something special about Lori, and he'd watched her grow from a teenager into a woman. He always thought there was something special about her. That's why he was going into battle with the cannibals. Ben had gotten word from the church that they'd abducted Lori. Then he took it up with them about backing him in war.
"I'm not selfish enough to want to engage them for revenge. They are a dangerous group, and they must be stopped. especially if we want to control this part of the river, and that is vital to our success as a whole. Groups like those cannibals must be destroyed."
The church agreed with him, and would back him in combat. They knew that the cannibals needed to be destroyed. They supplied weapons, horses, and additional soldiers to White Star. Ben had not been honest when he told them that revenge wasn't a factor, but they knew better. They also wanted him to take out the cannibals and didn't care whether there was a revenge factor involved. It was by no means a battle he couldn't win. The church knew that Ben would find victory among the savage. It had been confirmed that they were in fact coming toward the river.
The cannibals thought there was a group down by the river that they could overtake. They didn't know it was White Star. There would have been no attack planned against an outfit the size of White Star. No the cannibals weren't among the most intelligent groups, but they knew better than to attack large groups. There was no chance for them to win that kind of battle. They'd hide on the outside of the villages, and they'd take one person at a time as they became available without risk. Time had shown them the most effective way to hunt their prey.
The White Star soldiers were on the river ready to enter combat with the cannibals. Ben was waiting on extra supplies and soldiers. Then they could move down the river's edge to find the enemy. What if they didn't kill Lori? What if they've kept her captive? There were horrible thoughts going through Ben's mind. There was reason to believe they kept her for sex, and were going to breed more of their kind from a trophy woman. He could see them taking turns fucking her. While she lay there virtually defenseless for them. He knew he couldn't let his emotions cloud his judgment.

Chris had assembled a small following to protect him as he headed toward Billoxi. The group that had captured him had been defeated. The prisoner were then released, and where many of them bolted to Louisiana, Chris with a couple of others headed for possible freedom with the church. They didn't know anything about White Star. Unfortunately he didn't know about the cannibals either, or the battle that about to take place north of the river. He did know that the traveling could be deadly. He'd expect to walk into a peaceful situation, but would quickly see otherwise.
Ben had not moved the calvary when they were spotted by the small group led by Chris. If they'd been seen up there on the hill they'd have been killed. Chris knew that too. He ordered the group to keep watch on them. When more soldiers showed up with extra horses, the small group knew they couldn't attack the large group of more than a hundred. Chris realized that the group was about to move into combat. Surely they wouldn't need that many guys to take eight people. There was no way they'd call that many. He thought they might be searching for his tiny little group.
The cannibals had come out of the state park, and were just north-west of where John's tower was built. John was hunting in the woods. Had he been in the tower he'd have seen the cannibals. Lori might have saw them if she'd been in the top of tower, but she was in the lower level. White Star was moving in their direction. Chris then knew for sure they weren't after his small group.
"There not coming for us, and I think we should trail behind them." Chris told the others.
"Do you really think we should do that?" Someone asked him.
"I can only see the good that could come from it. We could get supplies, food, maybe even some horses. Yes, I absolutely think we should follow them." There were no more questions, and they followed them. The White Star had horses and moved fast, but because the group was so large Chris was able followed them. Everyone was ready for what might happen, except John and Lori.


10

John approached the backside of the hill where he saw the cannibals. They weren't quite to his spot, but he knew they'd beat him there. He dropped the dead deer, and made a run for it. He didn't know whether he could make it, however there was no way he wasn't going to try. The foliage hid the tower very well, but someone walking the path might take enough time to notice it. John didn't know it was the cannibals, and he couldn't see White Star coming from the other direction. Not that any of that mattered. He'd promised Lori that he'd protect her, and he was caught off guard.
The hooves of the horses shook the ground like deep rolling thunder. It was something the cannibals heard before they saw the White Star soldiers. They hid from White Star knowing it was a much larger group than theirs. The cannibals hid in the woods along side of the path opposite the river. John had delivered the first blow. His blade caught the man where the neck and shoulder meet. It was quick and quiet, but another guy saw him kill his partner. With his adrenaline pumping he attacked the other guy before he realized he was doing it.
Other cannibals were alerted to the conflict in the brush, but none of them could move. White Star was right on them. John had no idea that White Star was coming, or that they weren't affiliated with the cannibals. The fact is, John didn't even know the cannibals were who they were. He didn't take the time to think that it was probably the end, although the vast number of soldiers should have told him it was. Lori was locked away inside the tower. John knew Lori's survival depended on him. That thought never crossed his mind either, because he intended to kill, and never stopped after killing the first two men.
White star had spotted the cannibals, and they'd seen John fighting his way out to the path. Slinging that blade into the cannibals. The White Star didn't know who the man was fighting his way through the demented cannibals, but they didn't care. Ben was right there, and his order was to capture, question, and execute the enemy. The fight continued as the White Star overpowered them. John had killed a couple of Ben's men, and injured two more. Then from behind he was knocked in the back of the head. The shot hadn't knocked him out, but he was down, and he wasn't getting up.
John was tied up on the path, just like the cannibals beside him. Everyone was on their knees. Ben got off his horse and walked over to the men on the ground. Neither father or son recognized each other. Time had wiped away more than they knew.
"There was a girl here. She was beautiful, and I know you'd remember her. Now who has seen her?" He walked up and down the row in front of them, and waited for someone to speak.
"I've never seen her." One of the men said. Ben waived his had, and a man stepped up and shot the guy in the back of the head.
"Now somebody had to of seen her, but I'm betting that some of you know much more." He continued to pace the ground in front of them. "Someone is going to talk, or I'll kill every fucking one of you." Ben pointed at a man, and a bullet was put into the back of his head. The first guy had opened his mouth, but the second guy hadn't said anything. John knew right then, that he wasn't going to live. The group had guns, and too many soldiers to count. If he could get the restraints of his hands, he still wouldn't be able to run. They'd shoot him within ten feet, if not on the spot.
Chris and his group had made it close enough to hear the shots that were fired. They'd gotten close enough to see what was happening. They tried to move in closer on the situation, but were easily captured by White Star soldiers. They found themselves closer to the action than they wanted to be.

"Who are you with?" Ben asked the newcomers.
"We're not with them, or any other group." Chris replied. Ben walked over and punched him in the face. John had recognized the voice, and then realized it was Chris.
"You are not out here alone. There's no way a small group could move around. Who are you with?" Ben asked again.
"I've already told you we don't know them, and we're not with a group." He tried the truth again. Chris punched him again, but the second punch took him down. The White Star soldiers dropped him to the ground. The guys that made up the rest of Chris' group made a bold and stupid move, however a few of them wanted to die. They wanted it to be over, and they didn't want to live in the corrupted world anymore. The move was suicidal, but it was the best chance to escape that John was going to get. He bolted into the woods with his hands still tied behind him.
Hot led from the shotgun penetrated his back and shoulder. John stumbled into the brush, right before hitting his face in the ground. When he hit the ground shots were still being fired. Then even more shots followed the series that downed the suicide runners. John wasn't thinking about how dumb the move was, he was focused on the fact that he couldn't feel his left leg. His head began to feel really hot, and the burning feeling became more intense by the minute. Ben stood above him with two soldiers beside him. John was pretending to be dead, as all other options had been cut-off.
"Pick him up. I think he knows something." Ben ordered the other two guys. Why would he run if he wasn't with them? Ben figured it was because he knew something. John was badly injured. There was led touching his spinal cord, and didn't have use of his left leg anymore.
"You have a chance right now to tell me what you know." Ben told him.
"I don't have anything to say." John replied calmly.

The White Star soldiers began beating John to the ground. The hits from hands, feet, and other objects were extremely painful. Blood poured from John's face, and ran down into his eyes. Several times he tried to get up to his feet, but each time he was unsuccessful. There had been plenty of times when he felt helpless, however none of those times seemed as bad as the current situation he'd found himself in.
"OK now, pick him up, and lets get this hanging over with." John heard their leader order the others. They didn't seem to care what he had to say, nor did they stop the beating. There was something about the process of beating John that the soldiers enjoyed. Just like John himself had took pleasure in killing those who infiltrated his zone, or the zone he'd staked claim on. The White Star group was thrashing him, and loving every morbid minute of it. John had actually blacked-out in the middle of the beat down, and thought in his congested mind that he might already be dead. He woke to find himself with a rope around his neck, and positioned on the back of a horse. He wasn't dead yet, however even he knew that he was going to be.
Lori had worked her way out of the tower, and she was hiding, while trying to get a look at the clan of killers. Her eyes panned the area, and then she saw John hanging from the large oak tree by the riverbank. The horse had ran out from underneath him; it had left his lifeless body dangling from the large branch above him. She wanted to run out there and protest his hanging, but she'd been too late to prevent or stop it from happening. John had been a warrior. She would tell her child that too. That was only if she could survive somehow. Then she realized it was White Star who'd killed him, and she ran down there where they gathered around the oak.
"Let's go men." Ben had shouted to the others, and then he saw Lori. She was alive. For a brief moment he'd froze on the inside. Time seemed to stop for a moment. Then reality had set in to his train of thought.
"My God Lori you're alive." Ben said, with a level of disbelief in his voice."
"Yes, thanks to that man that you have hung. He took me in when I was lost, and he fed me when I was hungry. He loved me when I need someone to have feelings for me. He gave me hope when I thought I'd never see White Star again." She explained to Ben.
"I'm sorry Lori...we didn't know who the guy was. Our orders from the church had been to take this land from the rebels. We all thought you'd been killed, and everyone wanted to avenge your honor." Ben tried to explain.
Lori looked around at the dead cannibals, and all the blood splattered all over the ground. For the first time in her life she realized what kind of world she lived in. Her eyes caught Ben, and there was something about him that reminded her of John. She'd been protected from the violence that was prevalent among the groups. For the first time in her life she saw the ugliness that had consumed people, even people who were not evil by birth, but had come to only understand killing and death. Lori knew she was going to leave with Ben and White Star, however it almost felt like she no longer belonged to the group.
Ben ordered them to cut John down from the tree. Lori watched as his dead body fell down to the ground. "This man kept the woman I love alive. For that reason alone he deserves a proper burial." The White Star soldiers dug him a grave right there beside the river. Lori cried as they filled the hole in with dirt. She also knew that she was going to survive, just like John had wanted. His child was growing inside her, and through that child she would always have a part of him with her. She could finally say what she hadn't been sure of, she loved John, and was better for having known him.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 20.05.2011

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
This book is dedicated to all those who lost their lives in real American tragedy. God bless the USA.