Ryan Westfield - Defending Camp

They’d left the area that Dan knew well, and he no longer recognized the streets. But he could tell that they were leaving the spread-out part of the fairly well-to-do suburbs that Dan had grown up in. And they were entering a more urban area, where the buildings were closer together and hadn’t been kept up quiet as well as the suburban homes Dan was used to.

The area was mainly residential, with a mix of small convenience stores spread throughout.

Dan was still in pain. But he was doing his best to ignore it. He kept his breathing even in an attempt to keep his head clear enough from the pain that he’d be able to find and opportunity to escape.

They’d stopped once on Dwight Street, and the soldiers had sprayed bullets into a couple shops where they’d spotted someone.

The guard in the bed of the pickup had jumped down to join the other soldiers.

Dan had been in pain so much that he hadn’t been able to try to use the opportunity to his advantage.

He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“Where are you taking me?” said Dan. He’d tried once before. He figured he’d give it another try.

The guard didn’t answer. He didn’t even turn to look at Dan.

But Dan knew that he was in the guard’s peripheral vision.

One false move, and Dan had no doubts that he’d be pumped full of bullets.

The truck was an old one, and the ride was bumpy. The guard didn’t seem to be paying much attention to them at all, instead choosing to gaze off into the sky with a somewhat blank expression on his face.

Along the way, as they got further from the area that Dan knew well, he noticed that the woman prisoner was sneaking glances at him.

At first, Dan didn’t think anything of it. Each time that he’d catch her eye, she’d look away.

But then he noticed that she seemed to be trying to tell him something with her eyes, all while not letting the guard catch onto what she was doing.

Before she’d look at him, she’d look pointedly down at a particular spot of the truck bed.

Dan looked down, where she’d been looking, and saw that there was a piece of the truck bed, that for whatever reason, was rough and unfinished. It was right near Dan, behind him, and the metal looked sharp enough to possibly cut through his zip ties.

He didn’t look back at the woman. He didn’t want to give the plan away by alerting the guard that something was up.

All Dan needed to do was get his hands to that spot and try to rub them against the sharp metal long enough, hoping that he could break through them.

But how could he do that without the guard noticing?

Maybe if they stopped again, he’d have a chance.

And then what?

Even if he could get free, he couldn’t leave the woman there. It wasn’t right. Especially if she was handing him the key to his escape.

It’d be risky.

Very risky.

But he had to try it.

He’d been convinced that they’d shoot him if he tried to escape. But maybe that wasn’t right. After all, he’d stabbed one of their men, and they still hadn’t murdered him. Maybe they wanted him alive for some strange reason.

Or maybe he was just trying to convince himself that it was a good idea to try to escape.

Well, he might die. But it’d surely be better than wherever they were taking him.

He had to try.

Ten minutes later, Dan had his chance.

The military truck ahead rumbled to stop, sitting idle with the engine still on. The pickup that Dan rode in slowed to a stop, too. A soldier got down from the truck and came around back to the pickup bed.

The soldier had two cans of beer with him. He handed one to Dan’s guard, and cracked open his own.

“Thanks,” said Dan’s guard, cracking his own open and taking a long, deep drink.

“Any trouble from them?” said the soldier.

“Nope.”

“Good.”

“So we’re going to get our reward right away, or is it the same garbage as last time, where we have to wait a week and then we get half of it?”

“Nope. Everything should be good.”

The guard nodded. “So what’s the deal? Why are we stopping here?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re almost there. Why are we stopping ten minutes away? I mean, don’t get me wrong, thanks for the beer and all, but couldn’t we have done this afterward, once we get the reward?”

Dan’s head was spinning. He didn’t know what any of this was about, but he had the idea that it was important to what was happening to him. If he could only figure it out, maybe he could use it to his advantage.

What kind of reward were they talking about? Money? That didn’t make sense. Money meant nothing now.

Maybe food? Weapons?

And who would pay for two people to be delivered somewhere?

Dan thought about trying to use the metal to saw away at his zip ties. But the soldiers weren’t engrossed enough in their conversation. They were still looking this way and that, and they’d see what Dan was up to, that he’d shifted positions.

“Well,” said the soldier. “There’s something I had to do first.”

“And what’s that?”

“You finished your beer yet?”

“Just about.”

The guard drained the last of the beer, crumpled the can in his hand, and tossed it to the road.

“I’m sorry about this,” said the soldier. “I wanted to give you one last beer.”

“One last beer? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know how it works. One less guy means more for everyone else.”

“One less?”

The soldier drew a handgun from a holster rapidly. He drew it. And fired.

The shot rang out.

The soldier remained standing there, arm straight, gun drawn.

The guard had a hole in his forehead and his body slumped over into the bed of the truck.

The woman prisoner let out a noise. Not quite a scream. More of a moan of fear.

Dan remained silent. He didn’t dare to move.

“Don’t worry, lady, no one’s going to shoot you,” said the soldier, finally reholstering his weapon.

“What do you want with us?” screamed the woman, the last shreds of composure that she’d carried suddenly breaking away into outright panic.

“Hey, don’t blame us. We’re just doing our job.”

“Since when does the Army kidnap people? Kill them?” She was yelling loudly, her face contorted in rage and desperation.

“The Army, miss?” said the soldier, laughing. “Who said anything about the Army?”

“You’re soldiers, aren’t you?” said Dan, piping up. He knew he needed to know who they were. He already knew they weren’t the US Army. But they had equipment like theirs, and they did dress like soldiers.

“Soldiers? You got the wrong idea, kid.”

“Who are you?”

“Me? I’m nobody. One minute, I’m in jail, and the next thing I know the doors are open and I’m free to go.”

Either the beer or the kill had made this soldier more talkative than the others. Or maybe that was just the way he was.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Let’s just say someone gave me an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

“Where are you taking us?” said Dan. “Why don’t you just kill us now?”

“Kill you? You’re too valuable. Someone’s paying us a lot of supplies for kids and women captured alive.”

“Kids and women? What do they want with us?”

Dan glanced at the woman, who was looking more scared by the minute.

“It’s got something to do with mining. Some crazy plan to send kids down into mines because you’re so small and don’t eat much food. Hell if I know what it’s all about, but I guess you’ve got to start rebuilding the energy infrastructure somehow. Coal’s a good place to start, as far as I’m concerned. But, yeah, the plan doesn’t make much sense.”