Stan Morris - Surviving the Fog

“Corporal Carson, take your men and find Jacob,” Kennedy gasped as the nurse wrapped a long cloth bandage around his body.

“Yes, sir,” Carson acknowledged and gathered the troop.

Meanwhile, above a small clearing well away from the short battle, Jacob and his people were watching the six women and the five children. The two older boys were carrying rifles. The first shot had caused the boys to spring to their feet, and as they listened to the firefight, they had stiffened like stone, trying desperately to make sense of what they were hearing. Then there was silence. The women and the children became agitated.

“What’s happening?” cried one of the women.

“Dad! Dad!” one of the teenage boys yelled.

“Put your weapons down,” Jacob shouted.

The two boys swung their rifles in the direction of the voice but did not fire.

“Who’s there?” the bigger boy called loudly.

“It’s Jacob,” he heard someone yell back.

The frightened boy scanned the trees, trying to determine the direction of the voice.

“We have guns,” the boy said.

“I see that. We don’t have any guns. Put your guns down, and we’ll talk.”

“Maybe, you should do what they say,” one of the women suggested.

“You, shut up,” a different woman snarled, and then she said to the boys, “Don’t listen to her. You heard him. We have guns, and they don’t. There’s nothing they can do. Wait until your father gets back.”

“If you put down your weapons, we’ll give you food,” Jacob shouted.

He could see how emaciated some of these people were and reckoned that they were probably hungry.

“Mom?” the smaller teen said, and in the trembling of his voice was a plaintive plea.

“Don’t listen to him,” his mother snapped. “They’re trying to trick you. They probably don’t have any food.”

“We’ll wait while you think it over,” said Jacob. “We’re going to eat now. Here’s something to drink.”

From a different direction, a plastic bottle was tossed into the clearing. The smaller teenager picked it up and opened it. He sniffed, and then he drank, just as his mother yelled, “Leave it alone! It might be poisoned.”

“It’s Kool-Aid,” he announced. “Mom they have food!”

Up in the trees, Jacob was talking to Corporal Carson and the Rangers who had advanced to find Jacobs’s squad.

“The Lieutenant was shot,” the Corporal whispered. “But not seriously. The nurse is tending to him. We left the archers there. How are you doing here?”

“Two rifles,” Jacob said. “Taking it slow.”

“Your call,” responded Carson with a nod.

Down below, the boys and their mother were arguing. The three were obviously in charge. The other women and the other kids kept silent.

“When’s Dad coming back?” the older teen asked, but the woman didn’t answer.

She was wondering what had happened. The shots had unnerved her. She had expected her husband to be back by now.

“I’m hungry,” a little boy whined, almost oblivious to the tension. “When are we gonna eat?”

“Keep your brat quiet,” the woman in charge snarled.

The mother of the small child gathered him into her arms, as the little boy began to sniffle.

“Mom, we don’t have anything more to eat,” the younger teenager said, desperation in his voice. “Where’s Dad?”

“Shut up!” his mother yelled. “Let me think.”

Then she called, “One of you, come down here and bring us some food, and I’ll let a couple of these kids go.”

“Alright,” Jacob said.

He moved forward to the edge of the trees, so they could see him. He held up a large bag and shook it.

“I hope you like egg and lettuce sandwiches,” he said.

The woman in charge caught her breath, and her mouth began to water. These people have fresh food. She turned from side to side, trying to see how many people were hidden in the trees, wondering again where her husband was, starting to fear the worst had happened.

“Let that lady and her kid leave,” Jacob said.

The woman’s brow wrinkled with indecision, and then she nodded. The mother of the small child quickly stood, grabbed the hungry child and another child by the hand, and started hobbling towards the trees.

“Just one brat,” the woman in charge said.

“Both of them,” Jacob responded, and the woman and her children hurried into the trees.

“Now give us the food,” the woman in charge said.

Jacob motioned to the younger boy. The teen shuffled over to Jacob, afraid to come close to this stranger, but too hungry to balk. Jacob handed him the bag.

“Give me your rifle,” Jacob said quietly.

After a moment’s hesitation, the young man did so. “We don’t have any bullets anyway,” the boy whispered, his mouth watering as he clutched the bag of food.

Jacob quickly slipped back into the trees, as the woman in charge began to squawk angrily at her son.

Jacob returned to his group and handed the rifle to Carson, and then he turned to watch the people below eat. He saw how the woman in charge took the lion’s share for herself and for her two boys, leaving little for the other women and children, and when he saw this, his anger overcame his caution.

“That’s enough of that,” he said.

He strode back into the clearing and went directly to the older teenager. The older boy was larger and heavier than Jacob, and when he saw Jacob coming, he pointed his rifle, but Jacob ignored him. The Petersburg scout reached the boy and snatched the rifle away with contemptuous ease. The boy’s mother sprang to her feet blocking Jacob’s retreat, but the Rangers and the Spears rushed into the clearing, as angry now as Jacob. The woman and her sons sat down, subdued by the sight of the rifles and the sharp spears.

The Eagle’s Nest group was herded down to the glen where the bodies of the men had been placed, side by side. When the woman in charge saw her husband’s body, she emitted a cry of anguish and knelt by his side, as did her boys. The other women ignored her and the other bodies. They were overjoyed to see Diana and to be reunited with the nurse. They hugged each other, and cried, and profusely thanked the people of Petersburg for their deliverance.

The Lieutenant was lying on the ground. His upper clothing had been removed, and he had a bandage around his torso. Yuie sat next to him watching Lincoln anxiously and repeatedly questioning Diana.

“Are you sure he’s all right?” she kept asking, ignoring Kennedy’s reassurances.

“It’s just a scratch, Yuie,” Kennedy gasped out.

“It’s not just a scratch,” Diana retorted. “But he will be alright.” There were already ten stitches along his left side.

The troop from Petersburg stayed in the glen until they buried the bodies, and then they started their journey back to the river and from there, down to Petersburg. They made the woman and her two boys trail behind, but they fed them.

Someone seeing them eat muttered, “Why bother?”

Jean replied, “Because that’s what the Chief would do.”

At Petersburg, the residents were waiting anxiously for news of their troop. Mike returned two days after they left. He was surprised to hear about the people from the Retreat, but he didn’t offer any opinions, or any advice for that matter.

Howard offered to let Mike sleep in the loft until Jean returned, but Mike turned him down. Mike moved into the Lodge and took a bunk in the boys’ cave. One night, Imee sent for him. He found her in John’s and Desi’s room. He and John waited in terrified suspense most of the night, and then in the early morning hours, they heard a small high pitched voice wailing. Imee called them into the room. The newborn lay on Desi’s chest.