I placed another log in the wood stove as well as the fireplace before crawling into bed and snuggling up against Julie.
“Holy shit, your feet are cold,” she complained. I smiled and moved them away from her.
“How was Rick today?” I asked.
“
Little Frederick
was full of himself,” Julie replied. Our son, Frederick Zachariah Gunderson, was four months old now. I liked calling him Rick. Julie preferred Frederick.
“He couldn’t get enough to eat, crapped in his diapers a few times, and pissed on me once when I was changing him.”
“I hoped you cleaned up before bed,” I said as I chuckled.
“What were you and Terry talking about earlier?” she asked.
“We’re going to head into town in the morning. He wants to go over to the Boy Scout’s office in west Nashville.”
“What for?” she asked sleepily.
“He wants to get some merit badges and stuff. When Tommy and Joe complete a block of training, he’ll give them out as a reward.”
“Aw, how cute!”
I chuckled. “Terry’s serious about his training. Anyway, it’s only a few miles from here. I’m guessing it’ll only take a couple of hours. Please don’t tell the boys.”
Julie turned over and draped her arms around me. “I can be bribed into silence,” she cooed, which succeeded in gaining my undivided attention. We had not had sex since she had given birth. Well, I mean, we’d done other things, but not good old fashion toe curling sex, and it was killing me.
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I asked hopefully. Julie answered by rubbing lower. “Are you sure?”
“Just be gentle love,” she whispered, as she pulled her night shirt off.
Terry and I headed out after breakfast, drove straight down Nolensville Pike, and hung a left on Thompson Lane and continued driving west as it changed into Woodmont Boulevard. The Boy Scout’s corporate office was located on the corner of Woodmont and Hillsboro Road. We looked it over as we drove into the parking lot.
“It’s bigger than I thought,” Terry observed as he looked at the building. I nodded in agreement. “Well, I guess it’s a no-go. We can come back later when we have more people.”
“Hell, let’s give it a try. If it’s too risky, we’ll back out and move on,” I said, and pointed. “Besides, there aren’t any cars in the parking lot. Chances are pretty good the place is empty, or almost empty.”
My guess was right. The building was empty and we cleared it easily. The problem was not the size of the facility, it was the contents. The scout supply store had been completely looted. The only merit badges we found were on sashes, which were framed and proudly hanging on office walls.
“Well, I guess I can cut all of the badges off and then we can sew them back on when they earn them,” Terry lamented.
I took one of them off the wall and carefully removed it from the picture frame. Holding it up, I looked the sash over. “The sash is a rather simple pattern. Julie can sew some new ones with some cloth. It might look a little better than a used sash.”
Terry looked at me. “Hell, why didn’t we think of it sooner?”
I agreed with a chuckle. We were about to start a secondary search for anything we could find useful, but stopped when we heard the sound of a car outside. We traded a look, checked our weapons again, and stepped out quickly.
We had our assault rifles rigged with front slings, combat ready where we could bring them up and start shooting quickly, if needed.
The two of us exited the building and watched as a GMC Yukon Denali parked near my truck and four people exited. Their body language was tense, unfriendly. Terry instinctively sidestepped to the left of me.
“Hello,” I said, while looking them over. The youngest one was a boy about my age. Two of them, a man and woman, appeared to be a year or two older, and one was a man in his forties. They were all black, and all were wearing black clothing, complete with berets and mirrored sunglasses. Their jackets were festooned with military ribbons and patches. They all had weapons and weren’t smiling. There was a tense silence before the older one spoke.
“What were you two doing inside my building?” he asked. His voice was icy, menacing. I guess he thought he was being intimidating. I looked at him with contempt.
“Your building?” I asked. He nodded slowly, which I assume was supposed to appear menacing.
“We charge a tax for using our property,” he continued, “you two white boys haven’t paid.”
“Sure we did, I left it inside for you,” I responded and hooked my thumb toward the door behind me. He looked at me curiously.
“I took a big, nasty shit right in the middle of the lobby. If you hurry, it’ll still be warm,” I continued evenly. “It’ll be the most nutritious lunch you’ve had in quite a while.” The younger one scowled at me. The older one, I guess he was their leader, smiled without humor.
I returned his humorless smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, is this supposed to be the part of your fantasy where we piss our pants and beg for your forgiveness?” I asked.
“You’re going to beg alright,” the younger one said with a sneer.
“Don’t count on it,” Terry said in a growl.
“You two have some balls on you, I’ll give you that,” the older one said. His tone had lightened up a little, but not by much. I tried a slightly different tact.
“We’re not looking for trouble,” I said, “but we’re not anyone’s bitch, and we don’t pay taxes. If you have a problem with it, start shooting.” I finished what I had to say and glared in their direction, waiting for them to make a move.
Mentally, I was making a threat assessment, as I’m sure Terry was doing as well. The older one had a handgun still in the holster. The one who was my age had an assault rifle that appeared to be an AK-47. It was slung in front like ours, ready for quick use. A very lethal weapon, but he had one problem. The safety lever on an AK is fairly large, and therefore easily visible. I noted it was still in the safe position. So, the first person I was going to shoot was the one in the middle. Knowing how good a shot Julie and Andie were, I wasn’t going to underestimate the woman, she was going to be the secondary target.
There was a quiet, tense, moment that dragged out for several seconds. Suddenly, the older man started laughing. His bared teeth, the ones he still had, were a dark yellow, almost brown in color.
“Hakuna Matata my friends, there are no worries. There is no need for any shooting today. We’re brothers-in-arms, after all,” he said.
“I would probably agree,” I responded, “but your Black Panther get up indicates an obvious disdain toward white people.”
Terry glanced over at me. I casually gave the hand signal for caution before returning it to the pistol grip of my assault rifle.
“Where are you two from?” he asked.
“This is my hometown. My name’s Zach,” I responded.
“And you?” he asked, looking at Terry.
“I’m from Fort Campbell,” he replied. “Where are you from?”
The older one waved his hand around. “The world is my domain,” he said with an egotistical grin. Wonderful, I thought, another little man who thought he was king. I watched him intently as he looked around, grinning with his eight or nine teeth.
“Ah, well, we have other things to do. We will bid you goodbye then. Kifo na we we,” he said and turned toward their vehicle. As he did so, he nodded slightly at his companions.
I was almost too late in the translation, but managed to bring my weapon up at the same time as the three minions. I fired a quick double-tap in my primary target and then shot the woman with a double tap to the chest. Terry didn’t hesitate. As soon as I started firing, he shot the youngest man. The woman grunted in pain and started shooting wildly with her AK as she fell to the ground, stitching a line of bullets between us. Terry shot her again as I focused on the older one. He had his revolver out and fired before he aimed. I heard the impact of the bullet against the building several feet above my head, as I put four quick rounds in his chest. He fired again as he fell and I heard Terry grunt. I aimed determinedly and put one more round in his head for good measure.
“Are you hit?” I asked, as I scanned the other three. None of them was moving.
“It’s only a scratch,” Terry replied tensely. I hastened a quick glance. There was a crimson circle forming around his thigh. Shit.
“Cover me,” I said, rushed forward, and got all of the weapons away from our new adversaries. Surprisingly, the female was still alive, even though we’d shot her three times. She looked at me in fright as a froth of blood formed around her mouth. I realized then she was younger than I first believed, closer to my age or even younger, but, I had no sympathy. They had tried to kill us after all.
Once I had secured all of the weapons, I hurried back to Terry and inspected his wound closer. There was a horizontal trough the size of my little finger across his leg, and bright red blood seeped from it. It wasn’t pulsing out though, which I took as a good sign.
“It caught the inner part of your thigh. You were lucky it’s only a grazing wound. If it went any deeper, it could have severed your femoral artery,” I looked up at him and grinned. “Any higher and he would have shot your balls off.”
Terry chuckled nervously, I dropped my knapsack, retrieved a first aid kit, and went to work. I cut a larger hole in his pants, squirted the gash full of Neosporin, and tightly wrapped it with an Army surplus field dressing. I checked my work with satisfaction before standing.
“It’ll have to do for now.”
“It burns like hell, but you’re right, I was lucky. Andie would have been devastated if my balls were shot off,” he replied. Now it was my turn to laugh.
“Our scavenging is done for the day,” I declared, “let’s go home.” Terry clenched his teeth tightly as I helped him back to the truck, determined not to cry out in pain.
“What did the older one say?” Terry asked. “I saw you tense when he said it.”
“Kifo na we we. It means something like ‘death to you’ in Swahili,” I said. Terry chortled.
“Damn, Zach, is there anything you don’t know?” he asked sarcastically. There was plenty, I thought.
“I had a friend on the track team who was from Kenya,” I explained. “He spoke Swahili and taught me a few phrases.”
Terry nodded in understanding and I hurriedly checked their SUV for anything we could use. The Yukon was a fairly newer model, but it appeared to be poorly maintained and the interior smelled like B.O. There were some canned food products, a couple of cardboard boxes of ammunition, and four plastic Army surplus canteens. I took the food and ammunition, but left the dirty canteens.
Before getting in the truck, I took a moment to look them over. The girl was dead now. All of them were lying motionless in pools of blood. I scoffed as I stared at them. They were nothing more than heathens. I guess I should have felt a pang of empathy, but I stopped caring long ago about the morality of killing people such as these. I got in the truck and we left.
We radioed ahead on the CB and everyone was waiting on us when we arrived. Andie helped me get Terry inside and onto his bed. There were some towels laid out, along with our medical bag. Andie cut off Terry’s pants with a pair of scissors and then carefully removed the field dressing that I had applied.
“I’m going to clean it up,” she said to Terry. “It’ll probably sting a little.” Terry nodded, and then she looked up at me. “Should we cauterize it?” she asked.
“When did you have your last tetanus shot, Terry?” I asked.
“I got all of my inoculations in basic training, about four years ago.”
“Good, I don’t believe any cauterization is needed.”
Julie glanced at me and I knew what she was thinking. A tetanus shot was only good for ten years, and little Frederick was not going to receive one, or any other vaccinations in the foreseeable future. What was going to happen to him if and when he falls down and scrapes his knee, or steps on a rusty nail? What would happen to the rest of us when the tetanus antigen was no longer in our bodies?
My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a vehicle drive up and car doors slam shut. Looking out of the window, I saw Fred, Joe, and Tommy hurrying in. Right behind them was another car load, driven by Big Mac. Wanda was in the passenger seat, and Rhonda was sitting in back with the three little girls. Soon, we had a house full of people gathered around Terry, looking at him and his wound. Unfortunately for Terry, he was wearing a pair of skimpy, baby blue colored underwear.
“Those sure are a fancy pair of panties,” Rowdy said offhandedly. We all laughed. Terry’s face reddened.
“They’re briefs,” Andie retorted and looked warmly at Terry. “I think he looks sexy in them.”
We all laughed again.
As Andie cleaned the wound and applied fresh dressings, I quietly eased myself out the back door and walked to my truck. I heard the door softly close and turned to see Fred walking toward me.
“What do you think, Fred?” I asked when he got close.
“He’ll be walking with a limp for a while, but I think he’ll be okay if infection doesn’t set in.”