G Hopf - The Long Road

“Just do it, get it over with! Today, I die a patriot!”

Barone rolled up the paper and placed it in his side cargo pocket. He signaled to a couple of men to his right with a nod. They came running over and began to blindfold Cartwell.

“I want to see. I want to see you do it,” he said.

Both men stopped and looked at Barone. He didn’t respond right away, then signaled for them to leave with another nod. Once the men had taken position back in formation, Barone began. He unholstered his pistol and took aim at Cartwell. He wasn’t more than ten feet away, but for him it felt like he was a hundred feet away. Barone took a breath, held it, and began to slowly squeeze the trigger. The natural arc of movement felt exacerbated, and for an instant Barone was nervous that he might miss the man. The pressure he kept applying seemed not to be enough. He continued to squeeze, but then the man yelled out, “God bless the United States!” This startled Barone and forced him to apply the final amount of pressure to the trigger. The pistol went off with the bullet ripping through the man’s skull, throwing his head back. The man’s body then went limp and he fell to the ground lifeless. Barone lowered the pistol and just stared at Cartwell’s body. He stood for twenty seconds, then reholstered the pistol.

“Corpsman, over here now!” Barone commanded.

A man in his twenties ran over and examined the body of Cartwell. He looked up at Barone and said, “He’s dead, sir.”

“Good,” Barone answered with a subdued voice.

Barone took a few steps back and stood at attention. He ordered the formation to attention. Simpson walked over and stood in front of him.

“Master Sergeant, dump this man’s body overboard, then prepare the ARG, we’re done here.”

“What about the chopper that’s missing, sir?”

“We have to assume they went UA too; time to cut our losses and move on.”

“Where to, sir?”

“Set sail for Oregon, our next stop will be Coos Bay.”

San Diego, California

Sebastian had never used crutches before, but he was getting the hang of them quickly. He paced back and forth in his room; it was close to lunchtime, and Annaliese would be bringing him his food. After meeting with her father the day before, he had many more questions, especially about Zion.

Right on time, he heard the typical three-tap knock and then the door opened slightly. Her gentle face peered in to see him standing there with a slight smile.

“I have your lunch. Is now a good time?” she asked.

“Sure, come on in. I’m starving. Smells great. What is it, chili?” Sebastian replied. He looked happy to see her as he hopped over to the end of the bed and sat down.

She quickly walked in, placed the tray next to him, and turned to leave, not responding to him.

“Stop, don’t leave so quickly,” he pleaded.

“I have things to do.”

“Just ten minutes, please. I’m stuck in here all day. It’s lonely.”

She hesitated a bit, then gave in.

“Here, sit down,” Sebastian said, pointing to the same chair that Bishop Sorenson had sat in the day before.

She hadn’t sat down for a second before Sebastian started peppering her with questions.

“Where’s Zion? When are you leaving? Who are you people?”

“I’m surprised my father didn’t answer these questions.”

“Nope.”

“Well, let’s see. We are members of the Church of Latter-day Saints.”

“Okay,” Sebastian replied with a smile on his face.

“I don’t know if I can tell you when we’re leaving, but where we are going I can.”

“Zion?”

“Yes, Zion.”

“Where is Zion?”

“It’s the Holy Land in Missouri,” she replied.

“There’s holy land in Missouri?”

“I don’t expect you to understand, but yes, there is. We are going home.”

Sebastian smirked a bit because the sound of a “Promised Land” in the middle of the Midwest sounded funny. Annaliese caught this smirk and immediately stopped talking. She looked down and shook her head, then stood abruptly.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian asked, now concerned that his inappropriate behavior was the cause of her irritation.

“Mr. Van Zandt, I don’t need to sit here and tell you about my beliefs only to have you mock me. You’re in my house, and I expect some type of respect. You need to eat so you can get your strength back. I believe you have somewhere to go yourself.”

“Listen, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to do… that,” he said while motioning to his face.

“Excuse me. I’ll be back later for your tray.” She nodded to him and walked out of the room.

“Please stay, I’m sorry, truly, I’m sorry,” he pleaded, but it was too late. “Damn it, Sebastian, you’re such an idiot!” he said out loud. His appetite now gone, he stood and hopped over to the window. His room looked down on a side walkway where crates and large trash cans were stored. He leaned closer to see if he could see anything, but it was useless. The walkway went for yards in either direction. Feeling frustrated with himself and with not knowing what was going on, he hopped back to the bed, grabbed his crutches, and walked to the door. He felt a little hesitation about opening the door, but he asked himself what harm it would do if he went for a short walk.

He entered the brightly sunlit hallway and walked toward what appeared to be a large loft. On the walls hung portraits. He assumed they were her family, and by the looks of it, it was a large one. Each step he took, he felt more like a child sneaking out of his room; the thought flashed and he dismissed it as stupid. The loft was large, fully furnished, and had the appearance of a heavily utilized room. A sectional took up most of the space, a large TV was mounted on the wall, and what must have been dozens of toys were in the far corner.

At the end of the loft was a staircase. He hurried over and stopped. He could hear voices down below. One sounded like Annaliese; the other he wasn’t familiar with, but it was another woman. It sounded like they were talking about him, but just as he started to make out what they were saying, a voice from behind startled him.

“Does it hurt?”

“What? Ahh… jeez, you scared me,” Sebastian said. He looked around to see a young boy. He recognized him from the day before.

“Your leg. Does it hurt?”

“Uhh… yeah, kinda. In fact, it’s hurting more than usual,” Sebastian said, then walked past the boy to the sectional and sat down.

“Where are you from?”

“Now aren’t you full of questions?”

The boy walked over to the sectional and sat down next to him. “My sister said you survived a helicopter crash. Was it scary?”

“I’ll tell you what, let’s play a game. I’ll answer a question and then you’ll answer a question, okay?”

The boy thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

“So your first question was ‘Does it hurt’? Yes, it does. So, my question is. What city are we in?”

“Encinitas. Where are you from?”

“I’m originally from Maryland, but I now live or used to live at Camp Pendleton. I guess you could say I’m homeless. I was heading to see my brother when the helicopter crashed.” Sebastian looked at the boy. He thought about how well mannered and mature he seemed for his age. He guessed that he was about eight years old. His sandy blond hair was cut short, and his clothes showed a boy who seemed sheltered, a solid-colored blue polo-type shirt, jeans, and white socks. Sebastian smiled and continued. “When are you leaving for Zion?”

The boy looked a bit shocked by this question. “You know about Zion?”

“No way, my turn. When are you leaving?”