Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

Dennis turned to Martinez’s right hand man. “Oh, Mr. Everson, there’s just one more thing.” Everson faced Dennis, confusedly. Dennis raised his Colt and shot Everson dead. Then he fired three more shots at Kostroma and his men before they realized what was going on. Dennis walked over to them, and now, with a wink and a smile said, “Let’s go see that New World.”

Dennis, Eugene, and Sandy crossed the border into New America. While Sandy could feel nothing but relief and joy, Eugene was bemused and bewildered. Looking at Dennis, Eugene said, “What the shit is going on?”

Dennis laughed and told the two the story of his own entrapment and visit to Hell House. As he finished relaying Ray’s dying words to him, a familiar woman emerged from the shadows with the border administrator who was hiding in his office after the guard was killed.

“Do you still remember me, my husband?”

“Anna?”

Anna smiled and ran to Dennis. She hugged him, and Dennis returned the hug, although his memory of her was still a bit fuzzy.

Sandra smiled but Eugene was still a bit unsettled. Dennis turned toward them with a smile. “I understand everything now.” Memories of her began flooding back into his consciousness. Dreams became reality. The past happily married the present. Dennis was home again. What had become his reality only minutes ago faded from memory. That time now felt like the dream.

Sandra smiled. She understood. Her life with Jaydan Casimir now felt like a bad dream. She would have no life with Fernando Menendez, but she knew she would have one with Eugene Sulke. Only one thing could mar the new reality. Where were their friends and protectors?

As Dennis and Anna reunited, and Sandra and Eugene looked at each other, they heard a noise from behind them. “Well, well, well,” Jack Wrenn said, wearing a broad grin. “I was afraid you two might not make it. Are Ray and Cass here?”

The two ran over to him. Sandy gave him a great big hug, and then Terry Foote came out, a bit bedraggled, but in one piece. Finally, Chad Armstrong came out. Eugene and Sandy hugged all of them. Then Chad came over to them. “Ray and Cassandra here?”

Eugene started to answer, but Dennis interrupted him.

“I can explain,” Dennis said. The three just stared at him. Chad had his hand on his weapon, and then he saw Anna.

“He’s back boys.”

“You must be Chad Armstrong,” Dennis said as he extended a hand. Armstrong paused and slowly extended his own. “I recognized you from the photograph of you and from my dreams, though you were a bit fuzzy.”

Armstrong looked confused until Dennis explained how Ray convinced him of his capture and torture in Hell House. Dennis pulled out the manila envelope and handed it to Chad. He opened it and looked at the documents he was already familiar with. Wrenn and Foote came over and looked at the Legionnaire one. They all began grinning.

“There’s still a lot he doesn’t remember, but he’s back with us now,” Anna said.

“Really, Den. It’s really you?” Armstrong said.

“It was painful to learn that the life I knew was a lie. I can’t describe it. They recreated a whole career—hell—a whole life’s story for me. They took away the person I was. I was convinced I was a failure; a nobody. I got to tell you guys though. I was the one behind all the harassment. I was working for Jaydan Casimir to capture you. Martinez ordered your deaths. I shot my own brother and his wife before I knew the truth. Ray’s like a piece of chiseled granite. It takes him a long time to die.”

“He is that,” Chad said.

“Can you ever forgive me for what I’ve done to all of you?”

“You couldn’t help it, man,” Armstrong said. “They stuck the brain probe on you. It’s me who should be asking for forgiveness.”

“Yeah,” Terry Foote said. “We failed. We searched and searched for you, but we couldn’t find you.”

“We never gave up,” Jack Wrenn said. “At least until you resurfaced all fucked up and all.”

“Thanks, guys, for sticking by me.”

“Let me know where you left Ray and Cassandra,” Armstrong said.

Dennis just indicated the car he drove up in. “They’re in there, along with Pamela Piper.”

The car was still sitting outside the border fence. The Blues looked inside and saw the bodies.

“I called Mayor Piper,” said the administrator. “He was waiting for you at another border crossing. He’s on his way now, along with about half the journalists in the country. You’re about all anyone has talked about for more than a week now.”

Someone drove up the road from behind the office. “Maybe that’s the mayor now?”

But it wasn’t the mayor. A somber-looking woman exited the vehicle and walked over to everyone. “I heard you guys were here. Is my husband still with you?” She looked around, frowning.

“Who is your husband?” the administrator asked.

“Senator Everson Moore.”

“Oh, my God,” Sandra shouted, as she covered her mouth. Everyone just stared at her.

“He twisted or broke his ankle running through the woods,” Eugene said. “We had to leave him behind.”

Mrs. Moore began crying. “Oh, God. They’re going to stick him in that awful place again. I’ll lose him for good, now.”

Chad came over. “We’ll look for him ma’am.”

The three Blues started down the road. “Let me come with you,” Dennis said. “If you get caught I can pretend to have captured you. You’ll be safe.”

“No,” said Chad. “Your place is with your wife and family now.”

“What if there are more guys out there?” Eugene pleaded. “Let me go with you.”

Armstrong smiled. “Thanks, Gene, but the woods are clear. Besides, you’ve got a new life now; not to mention someone who loves you,” motioning to Sandra, who was talking to Mrs. Moore. “The only thing from you I need is where you last saw the senator.”

“We left him in the north woods when we were running toward the road.”

“Hey, you guys,” said the administrator. “Use the scooter cart. It’ll be faster, and if you need to carry the Senator, this’ll come in handy.”

Earlier That Night

Senator Everson Moore fought the pain as he moved slowly to a large tree. He leaned up against it, still holding the Berretta he had with him. He could hear voices ahead and behind him, but no one was coming for him. In time they moved farther west, until he could hear them no more. All he could do was crawl, dragging his painful foot. He knew he had several miles to go, but reasoned that he could make it in ten or twelve hours.

He would periodically take ten minute rests; then start again. Hour after hour passed. Where is everyone? It’s so quiet. Are they still ahead of me? What if they retreated back to the gate? What if I’ve been wandering in the wrong direction? Oh, I can’t bear it, but I won’t die out here .

Moore was sure he was moving west. He could see the North Star to his right. He reasoned that once he heard voices he would stop. Hour after hour passed and still there was silence. Then he heard voices and froze. He looked around for a tree to hide behind, but the voices grew closer. He couldn’t move now. Any noise he made might be heard by the people he presumed would kill him or drag him back to Hell House.

As Moore sat in a frozen state, he could hear more clearly what the men were saying. He recognized one of the voices. It’s Armstrong. But what if I’m wrong? I must listen, carefully.

“Jack,” someone said.