Kyle Pratt - Through Many Fires

Seconds later, a big bull of a man with a scraggly beard stepped from behind the dump truck.

Caden held out his hand as the big man neared. “Hi Neil. I arrived here yesterday to find out what is needed and try to organize help.”

The big guy looked at his torn and bandaged leg and then at his bloody hands and sleeve. “I guess it’s been a rough couple of days.” He shook Caden’s hand. “What did you want to say?”

“Conditions are desperate everywhere, but if there is a way to help I’d like to try. How many pregnant women are in your camp?”

“About twenty and maybe twice that many really sick kids. The doc says its dysentery and typhoid.”

“You have a doctor? That’s good to know.” Caden sighed. “I’m trying to get food, fuel and even steady electricity, but I can’t promise much. If nothing changes in a week, maybe two, the town will be out of food.”

“We’re a week or two ahead of you. When you run out of food, we’ll already be dying of starvation and disease.”

“Here is what I can do right now. If someone needs to be hospitalized, we’ll do it. I’ll get a medic down here to work with your doctor. I’ll get a tent and supplies so we can set up a rudimentary field hospital. We’ll transport the seriously ill to the Hansen hospital. I’ve ordered food to be brought here, not much, but I will try to get more. That is the best I can do.”

Neil’s eyes grew tired. “I believe you, but I’m not sure everyone will.” He sighed. “I’ll get the doctor, the pregnant women and the sickest kids to the bridge.”

The two men shook hands again and parted.

Caden told the First Sergeant to have the medic work with the camp doctor, get the sickest to the hospital and distribute the fifty MREs to those who needed it most.

As the two walked back toward the pickup Brooks held out his keys. “I think you should drive.”

The lieutenant’s complexion was pale, in stark contrast to the dried blood that still covered part of his face.

Caden took the keys. “Yeah, let’s get back to the armory and get some coffee.”

Looking off in the distance Brooks said, “I noticed the combat badge on your uniform. Were you in Afghanistan?”

“Yeah. Two tours.”

“Was it bad? Did you….”

Caden stopped.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No. It’s okay, David.” He sighed deeply. “I was in combat multiple times on both tours and yes, I’ve killed people.”

“Does it get easier? Do you forget their faces?”

“Combat is never easy, but yes, I think it gets easier.” He slowly shook his head. “About the other thing…I’ve never forgotten the faces of those I’ve killed or my friends who have been killed.”

Brooks took a deep breath. “Thanks. I thought it was just me.”

Caden opened the truck door and then paused. “You know, Churchill once said, ‘There's nothing quite as exhilarating as being shot at and missed.’ Maybe you should look at it that way. You’re alive and that is a good thing.”

“Today isn’t the problem.”

“Oh? The looters at the hospital?”

Brooks nodded.

So it was you that killed them. “Let’s get that coffee.”

The generator was running by the time they got back to the armory. Brooks opted for a long shower before getting coffee. When he returned to the office his complexion had improved. Except for the bandage on his head, he looked like a typical young soldier.

Taking the last sip of his coffee Caden said, “I want one of us here at night.”

“I’ve been living at the armory since the Atlanta bombing.”

“Well then I guess you need a night off?”

“I’m fine. I’ll stay. I think I need an early night anyway.”

Caden wrote down his phone number and then added his address and a simple map to his house and handed it to Brooks. “If anything happens, call me or come get me. Otherwise I’ll see you in the morning.”

With the electricity still off, and the sun setting early that time of year, the roads were dark and lonely. As he drove down the main street he shared the road with a single sheriff’s car. Candlelight shining in the window and the smell of wood fires greeted him as he passed by homes on his way out of town. Snow flitted in the air. It would have been pretty, almost Christmas like, if he didn’t know the tragedy, hunger and cold that caused it.

Candles and lanterns shone through the windows, casting the living room and kitchen in a soft, yellow glow as he stepped from the car in front of his family home. Waving his arm he announced, “It’s me, Caden.” Don’t need any more shooting tonight.

Maria stepped out the door with a wide smile.

Caden sighed. Totally forgot about Valentine’s Day.

As he limped into the light her smile changed to fright. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

“Oh,” he said looking at his bloody sleeves. “I’m okay. It’s someone else’s.” He came up the steps and hugged her. “It’s good to be home.”

Lisa came out onto the porch. “Are you….”

“I’m fine. Let me sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.”

An hour later he had told everyone the story of his day and had a dinner of stewed chicken, corn and potatoes. The food was good, but each mouthful brought back images of the desperate people north of town. I hope we can find a solution fast for them.

In the living room, he sat in his father’s recliner and felt the cares of the time drain out of him.

Sitting next to him with Adam, Maria said, “We traded a young rooster and a couple of hens for some rabbits.”

“Dad had some cages, but no rabbits, so we traded for a buck and two does.” His sister added. “Now, in a couple of months we’ll have another source of meat.”

“That’s great. If everyone bartered like that, there would be a lot less hunger than there is.

Light hit the living room curtains casting the room in a colorful glow. Lisa stood, grabbed her shotgun, and peeked out the window. “Someone is coming up the driveway.”

Maria blew out the lantern as his mother smothered the two candles.

Caden came up behind his sister and recognized the red Ford pickup. “He’s a good guy sis, don’t shoot him.”

She elbowed her brother. “I’m never going to hear the end of that am I?”

“Nooo,” Caden said with a big grin, “My grandchildren are going to know all about the day my baby sister shot me.”

Brooks stepped out of the car as the whole Westmore clan filed onto the porch.

At the bottom step the lieutenant came to attention and saluted.

Caden returned the salute, “Is there a problem XO?”

“Hopefully not sir. We received a phone call about 30 minutes ago. The Adjutant General has ordered all commanders back to Olympia for a meeting at 0900 tomorrow.” He handed Caden a sheet of paper with handwritten details.

After reading it over he asked, “Did they say what it was about?”

“No, but on the radio coming here I heard that President Durant has activated the California National Guard to assist Chinese advisors.”

A bewildered look spread across Maria face. “Chinese?”

Caden rubbed his chin. “What are the Chinese advising us about?”

“The radio said they want to ensure the fair distribution of their food aid.”

“Why do we need their help to ensure fairness?” Lisa asked.

“We don’t,” Maria replied.

They’re not worried that we will misuse the food aid. I thought they were covering something up with their own involvement when they disarmed the North Koreans. This is just another step in their worldwide chess game—a game I think we might lose. “I guess I’ll let you know when I get home tomorrow.