Roman Cesaro - Fallen Into Darkness

Robert leaned forward and pointed to the direction of the dam near where they secured the rafts. The sergeant slowly released the clutch and the truck jumped forward, rocking the three men in the back. The sky was pewter gray with low hanging clouds. Raindrops smacked the plastic of their rain ponchos hard as the truck strained to go faster. The men pulled their hoods over their faces and waited for the truck to stop. As the truck slowed near the dam, Robert tapped the top of the cab, leaned to the driver window, and pointed to the three rafts on the ground, still covered with tarps. The sergeant pulled up next to the rafts and pointed the truck toward the road that would portage the men and rafts around the dams. They stacked the rafts on the flatbed and Robert and Kyle began tying them securely in place. The sergeant and Richard stood by the passenger door and tried to talk over the pounding rain and echoes of thunder.

“Someone should ride in front now,” suggested Sergeant Haber.

Richard opened the passenger door to take advantage of the invitation. He saw a black duffle bag on the seat and reached across to move it. The sergeant lunged and grabbed Richard’s arm.

“Hold it, hold it… I’ll move that out of your way,” said the sergeant, as he pushed Richard’s arm away from the bag. The sergeant gently moved the bag over to the driver’s side and then he went to the other side of the truck and gingerly picked up the bag, then set it carefully on the floor. The sergeant took the driver’s seat and everyone else found their spot on the truck. With another cloud of black smoke, the truck lunged forward again and into first gear. The sergeant drove the truck slowly up, then down the hills around the dams.

Richard saw the sergeant’s knuckles turning white from his tight grip on the steering wheel. The sergeant was silent as he drove. He stared at the wet road ahead, occasionally glancing down at the black duffle bag. As the truck approached the last dam, Richard noticed the sergeant had started sweating profusely. The windows were slightly rolled down and the air was cool. Richard tried not to stare, but he could see that there was something different about the sergeant now.

The sergeant stopped the truck at the top of the last dam. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still dark and gray. Looking past the dam, they could see a gentle slope to the river. The sergeant helped them take the equipment down to the riverbank. They left the wool blankets in the truck cab to stay dry.

“I’ll put your blankets in my bag and meet you down there, go ahead,” said the sergeant, pointing to the rafts near the water. He waited until the men turned their backs and slowly removed the black duffle bag. The sergeant unzipped the bag and carefully placed the blankets inside. He carried the bag down to the river and sat it down by the raft nearest the riverbank. He was now between the men and that raft. He removed the blankets and tossed them into one of the rafts.

“I was thinking it was too bad we couldn’t get you any weapons for your journey. It’s such a shame. You have a long way to go and there are a lot of bad guys out there.” The sergeant spread his feet a little wider as he stood in front of Robert’s raft. “I heard you were lucky enough to get a pistol. What kind is it?”

“9mm,” Robert said, looking confused at the question.

“That’s fantastic. Do you mind if I take a look?” asked the sergeant, with a forced smile.

“Why?”

The sergeant took a step toward Robert. “I am a big fan of firearms, I love the 9mm… do you mind?” asked the sergeant again, now holding his open hand toward Robert. “Look, I brought a wonderful assault rifle. It’s in my bag, right here. The stock collapses… why don’t you have a look at it?” The sergeant got closer to Robert.

Robert pulled the pistol out of his pants and handed it to the sergeant. The sergeant smiled and passed the pistol from hand to hand. He took a few steps back toward his black bag by the raft. “Robert… Robert… Robert… a good soldier never gives up his weapon,” stated the sergeant coldly, as he looked up from the pistol, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I think I should keep this pistol, Robert… I wouldn’t abandon a good pistol… especially if it was my only weapon.”

Robert’s face was red with anger. His hand was on his knife under the rain poncho, gripping it tightly. But Sergeant Haber had the pistol; Robert knew there was nothing he could do about it.

“What kind of shit is this?” said Robert, angrily. “You have your choice of weapons back there. You’re in supply and can get anything you want. We need that!”

“Yes… plenty of weapons, kept in the armory, locked up tight and guarded. But no rafts. And correction… I was in supply. I quit this morning,” said Sergeant Haber, sarcastically. “I should thank you for your idea on how to get home. I’ll be going back to Illinois. My parents have a farm there.” The sergeant sneered. “They will be out of food on the base and in the city before winter arrives. You’re crazy if you think I am sticking around for that. Thousands of hungry people with automatic weapons… no thanks.” The sergeant pulled an envelope sealed in a plastic bag out of his duffle. “Here is the general’s message for Fort Benton,” said the sergeant, as he put the envelope, sealed in a plastic bag, on the ground. The sergeant began to push the raft onto the water after gently loading his duffle bag into the raft. “Don’t follow me. I prefer to travel alone,” warned the sergeant, as he patted the black bag. “Stay away.” The sergeant jumped into the raft and pushed away from the shore. The three men stared at him and he stared back as he floated away.

“I didn’t see that coming,” said Robert, in a subdued voice. Robert picked up the letter from the general and dropped it into Richard’s raft. He turned and looked at his two companions and said, “I saw what was in the bag. It was full of ammunition, grenades, and maybe some explosives, too.”

Richard’s eyes grew wide as he listened to Robert speak, and said, “When I reached to move that bag, he freaked a little. That explains it.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” said Kyle. “Double up with Richard. Set part of his stuff in my raft to give yourself some more room.”

They transferred some of the supplies between rafts. Robert was now sharing Richard’s raft, and they moved the rafts near the water. Just before they pushed off, Robert noticed a stand of river cane at the riverbank. They delayed their departure to cut down several dozen of the bamboo-like plants.

“What’s it for?” asked Richard, as Robert put a bundle of river cane next to him. “It looks like skinny bamboo.”

“Keep these dry and I’ll turn them into arrows for the bows,” said Robert. “I’ll try to hunt with them; it’s all we’ve got now.”

The men pushed away from the bank. Gray clouds remained low in the sky. Intermittent raindrops would tease the men every time they thought about removing their rain ponchos. The river had swollen from the rain and the current grew stronger.

For miles, they saw desolate rock bluffs and scruffy patches of grass under the gray sky. Their surroundings appeared inhospitable. By late afternoon, their journey had taken them to a small oasis on the riverbank. They approached a gravel clearing that joined to green grass and trees. Kyle was first to signal that this was the place to stop for the day. They pulled the rafts out of the water and surveyed the new landscape with wide, alert eyes. Robert took the hatchet to chop driftwood for a fire, hoping the inside of the wood had remained dry. Kyle and Richard decided to find a secluded area to camp in the thicket of woods. They found a flat spot under the canopy of trees. They noticed an existing fire ring someone else had used. The ashes were old and cold; no one was around now. Robert brought several pieces of driftwood and split them open. The center of the wood was dry. Robert split the dry core from the wood to use as kindling to start a fire, and when he had sufficient kindling, he gathered some larger pieces of wood, leaving Kyle and Richard to get the fire started. Robert wanted a good fire this evening because he was determined to dry the bow wood further, and the green river cane, too. When the wood and cane were completely dry, he would be able to finish them and hunt for food. With a bow and arrow, he might be able to get something bigger and different than fish to eat.