Ch 1
At the house in town, Robert Tanner loaded the last crate of vegetables into his truck. Now that they could buy and sell outside of Driftwood, they had customers in Spring Valley and a couple in Johnson city. He looked at his list of deliveries and pickups.
The vegetables were ultimately going to Spring Valley, he just had to take them to the grocery store here. Then was a run up to JJ's place to pick up the alcohol fuel and pay Kaede most of what he got from delivering the vegetables and coolers of fish. Then Sonya had a furniture delivery for him to do, and since she didn't have a truck availably, he was going to take the bedroom set over to the Lupin farm for her.
The return of money to Driftwood was helping, but being used to dealing locally, many of them were still doing it. The good part was the farms were back to making a profit, and many people came to driftwood to buy alcohol fuel, which was cheaper than gasoline now.
Malinara came bouncing up. "Robert! Can I ride with you? I'll help load and unload."
By the glint in her eye, Bob knew she was looking for a load of something also. "Didn't Joan want you to keep clearing the gardens out?"
As if on cue, Allison called out, "Mal! We need your help here!"
Malinara frowned.
Bob grinned at her and shrugged.
"Oh!" she whined and stomped back to the garden Allison and Joan were working on.
Bob got in his truck. Before he started it, Hanna's translucent form appeared in the passenger seat.
"Hanna?" Bob asked in surprise.
She cast him a frown. "I am really, really sorry Bob, but no one can know where you're going."
"I'm going somewhere?" he asked.
She nodded, they both disappeared.
Malinara got back to the garden. An explosion sounded, the blast wave knocked her down. She got up as vegetable bits and fish rained down around her. Both Allison and Joan stared. Malinara turned around to see pieces of the truck all over the place, only the frame was still on the road.
"ROBERT!" Malinara wailed. They all went running to the debris to find out what happened to Bob.
.
Bob only saw a very bright light, wincing his eyes shut against the brightness. Feeling like he was falling, he opened his eyes to see rocky ground come up to meet him. This registered as he hit the ground to bounce and land on his back.
"Ouuuuch!" he complained. Above him was a ruined bridge with big holes in it and sections hanging down. What?
The second thing he noticed was gunfire. Coming at him was a man with rifle, shooting. The man paused at seeing him and pointed the rifle at him.
Fuck!
Bob did the only thing he could think of doing to keep from getting shot. He quickly rolled towards the man and kicked him hard in the balls. It worked, the man dropped his rifle as he screamed and fell.
Bullets hit the ground near him. The others running forward were shooting as they came. Bob noted five more men. Getting hit with a few slugs, Bob got angry and snapped up the rifle by him and shot back. Three of the men fell. Bob got to his feet and shot the other two. Behind them, six more saw this and ran to the sides to hide in the brush. Fearing they were going to keep shooting him, Bob focused on their semi-hidden forms and shot them one at a time also. One jumped up to shoot. Bob took it in his chest and shot that guy in the face. That one fell back.
Where the hell was he? "Hanna?" he cried and looked around.
The man he tried to send his balls up into his stomach was passed out now. He did hear sobbing through the ringing in his ears. It was coming from behind him.
After making sure no one else was coming at him or shooting, Bob searched for the source of the noise. He also noticed the severe damage to this bridge looked fresh. Parts of it were still warm. He did locate the source of the sobbing.
On the bank of this dry steam bed, or whatever it was, there was another figure in the brush. He walked over to find a blonde girl holding her right arm. He saw her right leg was bleeding too. He tossed the rifle to the side and went over to her. She was looking at him with impossibly wide blue eyes as he approached. She opened her mouth wide, like she was going to scream. Her clothes were brown, with pieces of branch and leaves all over them. It almost looked like camo.
"It's OK!" he said quickly, holding both hands up. He knelt down by her and inspected her wounds. By the jagged cuts, it looked like shrapnel damage. He tore her pant leg open as she stared wide-eyed at him, quivering in place.
Yup, shrapnel damage. Beside the cut, her leg was bruised up pretty good. Having no bandages, he ripped the bottom of her pant leg off and made a bandage to cover up the cut.
"It's gonna be Ok," he told her gently, and got her to let go of her arm wound. Same thing here, she'd caught some shrapnel in her arm. He ripped her sleeve apart and used it to bandage her arm. "Who are you?" he asked.
She only stared at him. He got up and offered her a hand. "Can you walk?"
All he got in return was her stare. She swallowed and pointed to the other bank. Bob turned to look. Yes, there was another figure lying on the bank. He went over to see it was another woman who was lying still. She had the same cobbled together camo clothing on. There was also a lot of blood. He checked for a pulse. There wasn't one. SHIT! Her eyes were partway open, staring at nothing. He closed her eyes.
Turning around, he saw the Blondie was looking at him. He shrugged.
The blonde tried to get up and stumbled to fall. When she fell down, she burst into tears.
Bob went over and helped her up. The dam had burst open, she clung to him wailing her tears out. He looked around but no other men were coming to threaten him. No matter where he was, he got the feeling they had to get out of here.
In her state, there was no way Blondie was walking. He scooped her up in a bride's carry and went down the stream away from where those men had come from. She blubbered on about something, but he didn't understand a word.
Not wanting to be a target for any more bullets, Bob went up the shallower bank and into thicker brush. Finding a place to let her lay down between some bushes, he set her down.
BOOM. Bob snapped his head to the sound, and another boom blew up a piece of the stream bed. OK, they didn't go far enough. Scooping her back up he got up and ran. Seeing woods ahead, he ran through the woods. More explosions went on around the bridge behind them. Seeing a ditch, he ran to it and laid her down in it.
Shrapnel was coming down all over the place, He got down and shielded her with his body. The bombardment lasted a short while. Not long after that the rain of deadly pieces stopped.
Peeking up out of the ditch, Bob searched. No one else was around yet. He felt a pet on his shirt. He looked down to see she was eyeing the bullet holes in his shirt. His shirt was also pretty bloody.
"Yeah, got a few ouchies," he told her. He got her attention and asked, "Where are we?" as he shrugged.
Looking up at him, she pointed and said something in her unintelligible speech. With her good arm she made her fingers walk, then pointed off into the woods.
He got it. He nodded and picked her up again and headed the way she'd pointed.
Walking through the woods, Bob kept a sharp eye and ear out for anyone else with a gun. Those men had proper camo clothing on, not like that stuck together stuff Blondie was wearing. He also began to notice other things about her as he went along. The hat she had on wasn't really a helmet her nose was also a bit wide with large nostrils. Even her eyes still looked a little big for her face. He'd thought at first she was just surprised, but they still looked larger and she had calmed down some. Her ears looked a bit long and the tops were folded out, like someone had bent them.
OK, so she wasn't quite human. She was still a wounded woman who'd been caught on a battlefield, and needed help.
After about an hour of walking, Bob saw the woods clearing up ahead. He also saw vehicles. They looked armored. Slowing his pace, he felt Blondie stiffen up in in his grip. She slapped him on the chest and pointed to the ground with a worried look. OK, those were more of those soldiers. He set her down behind a tree.
Looking at him, speaking quietly and making motions, he got they had to go that way, but she couldn't because those men were there.
Bob had many questions. He did know if he went out there, he'd be shot again. He wanted to avoid that if possible. Then again, if he was to get her where she wanted to go, which he assumed there was help for her there, he had to go find a way past those men.
With a sign, he put a finger to his lips to indicate silence, then patter her on the head and went towards the men staying low to see how bad he was going to get shot up.
"I really love you to Hanna," he grumbled as he crept along.
.
Back in Driftwood, Joan Allison and Malinara searched the debris for any sign of Bob. It looked like he'd been blown up with the truck, but they weren't finding anything of him.
"Mal are you SURE Bob was in the truck when it exploded?" Joan asked.
Frantic, Malinara cried, "Yes, I saw him get into the driver's seat. He didn't even have time to get out when I got knocked down by the blast!"
"If he was in there, we'd be finding something of him!" Allison stated. "There's not a single piece of him around, and he's not laying anywhere I can find! He would be if he was even near the truck!"
"He CAN'T be dead!" Malinara cried.
Joan saw Malinara was crying. She went over to hug her. "Calm down. From what we can see, he wasn't in the truck when it went up. The big question is, why did it explode?"
In a sobbing voice Malinara replied, "No! The big question is where's Robert?"
"We'll find him." Joan assured her firmly.
.
Bob was lying in behind a bush at the edge of the woods. Out in the field were five what looked like tracked mobile artillery guns and a truck. Men were carrying shells from the truck to the guns. Those not working stood up on the guns, watching out into the distance. Best count, there were thirty of them. They were getting ready to shoot. This wasn't good.
One came closer, unzipping his fly. Bob noted he had heavy eye brow ridges and a flat nose, kinda like a Neanderthal. He looked behind him at the truck, Bob jumped out at him. The man turned back to have Bob punch him hard in the face. The man recoiled and toppled. Bob dragged him back into the brush. Looking out at the others, no one seemed to notice.
Bob checked the man for weapons. The only thing he had was a large knife. Bob also checked for a pulse and found the man was dead. Good. He searched the men working for anyone with weapons. One standing back watching the others did have a pistol at his side.
Bob winced. This was going to hurt, but he had to keep those guns from firing. Watching the men carry ammunition to the guns, Bob got an idea.
Getting up, Bob strode towards the man with the pistol. Luck was with him, he didn't get noticed until he was five paces behind the man. A worker saw him and stared. Bob closed quickly on the gunman, grabbed his pistol and the back of his shirt at the same time to yank him back as he drew the pistol.
From behind the man who flailed, Bob drew down on the worker and shot the shell he was carrying. The powder in the shell went off, blowing the worker away. The man in front of him also hit him, but took the shrapnel.
Not knowing how many shots he had, Bob picked a worker farther away who dropped his shell in shock. This time, Bob hit the round. He quickly ducked behind the man he was holding and got blown over by the blast. The blast also tipped the truck on it's side, burning.
That wasn't good. Scrambling up, Bob ran between the last two guns. Seeing a soldier with a rifle who'd yet to notice him, Bob shot him.
Yelling and screams filled the air. An explosion followed that shook the air around him. Bob staggered but kept his feet. He ran to the back of the last gun. Meeting a wide eyed man about to come out, Bob yanked him out and saw the ammo rack. He shot a shell and dodged to the armored back of the vehicle.
Flame shot out of the gun. The man he'd pulled out was trying to get up, then screamed at the fire from within washed over him.
Taking stock of what was left, Bob saw the last gun had fire coming out the rear hatch. He ran to the next one in line and again, shot a shell and ducked to hide behind the vehicle's armor.
The third one had a man with a rifle coming out. Bob shot the man, then shot inside. This one scorched him as fire blew out the back.
Damn, that hurt!
Bob grabbed the rifle. It looked to be semi-automatic, hopefully fully auto. At the non burning gun, he hid by the door, stuck the gun inside and pulled the trigger. One shot came out, so he kept shooting inside. A man screamed then fire blew out. He dropped the rifle out of his burning hands.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Bob cried and waved his hands frantically to stop the burning. This was really beginning to suck!
More yelling came from farther away. Right, men were in the field too.
He felt burnt, his hands were blistered bad and stinging with burn, Bob decided to run back into the bushes, away from the fires now cooking off more ammunition. Pieces of the truck were all over the place. He wanted to heal some before facing more of those men. Getting behind a big bush, Bob laid down and waited.
A dozen men did come, staying clear of the inferno that had been their artillery. He heard shouts and complaining that he didn't understand, but not one came close to the scene. They formed up and moved off to the left.
Bob waited until the tingles healed his hands face and front. He also saw most of his shirt was gone. Well at least his pants were intact with only some scorching.
Once he was sure the rest of those men were gone, he went back to the woman to find her standing up behind the tree. Again, she was gaping at him.
Bob jerked a thumb behind him. "We can go now." He eased her up into a bride's carry again and walked far to the right of the burning mess. She watched the remains as he strode through the field, keeping a close watch ahead. She jabbered on for a while. Not knowing what she was saying, he only smiled at her now and then.
Coming up to a hay stack, he saw another person point a gun at him as they rose up. He quickly dropped and spun to protect the woman he was carrying from being shot. She called out in a loud voice.
The person covered with hay replied. Blondie talked to him again in a soothing tone.
Bob looked behind him. By the rise of her chest, they looked like another woman. Her gun was lowered as she carefully approached. Bob stood back up and turned to her as the women jabbered back and forth. The one ahead of him nodded, and waved for him to follow.
It wasn't a haystack, but some kind of hut, the inside was hollow. Bob stopped inside as three other women jabbered with the one he was carrying.
Blondie's good arm was moving and gesturing as she rambled on. A dark haired woman with a straw hat motioned to a cot that looked like hand baled hay and Bob got that was where she wanted him to put Blondie down.
He did, taking her to a leveled pile of straw and Blondie kept talking, now motioning to him as she rattled on. The women had gathered around Blondie, but no one had yet to even look at her wounds.
"Hey, ladies!" Bob asked loudly. He pointed to her leg and arm wounds, "Can you give her some help here?"
They all stared at him. Right, they had no clue what he was saying. He mimicked being hurt and pointed to her wounds again. A reddish haired woman looked at the wounds and nodded. She still didn't do anything.
"At least wash them out?" He asked making a scrubbing motion.
A couple of them shrugged.
Great, they had no idea what he was talking about.
Bob looked around their hay-hut. They had some bags of food and some ammo for their guns. That was it. No sign of a first aide kit or even a pot for water. He shook his head sadly. "What the hell are you girls doing out here?" he wondered aloud.
The brunette tapped him on the shoulder. When he looked at her, she rambled something off.
"Water," he said and mimicked taking a drink.
She nodded and went to leave, motioning him to follow. Heading out, she took him across the field and pointed to a small stream. Cupping her hands, she mimicked drinking.
They had very few supplies, no medical at all, and their camp was a straw hut. "You've got no business out here trying to fight those men," he told her firmly. He looked back towards where those artillery had been. Smoke was still rising up in the sky. Maybe there was some things there he could salvage. He told her, "I'll be back," then walked back to see what he could find.
She followed him. When he passed the hut and kept going, she grabbed his arm and shook her head, rattling off some words. She pointed back towards the hut. She bore a look of concern.
He smiled and motioned to her and back at the hut, then himself and pointed out where he was going. "I'll be back," he said again and patted her arm.
He walked on, and thankfully, she didn't follow.
.
Carefully approaching the smoldering remains of those artillery guns, Bob searched for anything useful. One thing that was useful were the helmets of the men lying around. He found a few that were salvageable. He also found a couple of those semi-automatic rifles. Inspecting one, he did find a selector switch on the side. A burnt pack on the ground, he also found some bandages within and a small bottle. He opened it to find it smelled like alcohol. OK, that would sting, but it was good for cleaning out wounds. He took the pack. Looking around, it occurred to him he hadn't seen any personal armor on anyone here. He grabbed up another helmet and walked back to the straw hut.
Returning, the Brunette again was on watch with her rifle. Bob waved to her. She waved back. Going inside the hut, he went over to the blonde. She smiled at him. Setting his load down he grabbed two helmets and mimicked drinking out of one. He then left for the stream.
One thing Bob needed also was something to light a fire with. He had nothing. What was he to do, rub two sticks together? "Damn it, Hanna! At least you could have let Malinara come with me!"