all god's orphans
Chapter 64

As Brian drove away from the checkpoint, nobody spoke. The others were more disappointed than he was, having already been turned away before when all he wanted was help for Daniel. Millie sat in the back on the floor, hugging her knees and feeling sorry for herself. There was nowhere to go now, she thought. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but simply being told to ‘go away’ wasn’t it.

Once they were several miles away from the disappointment, Brian pulled the van over into a rest area. For a long while, they all simply sat there, saying nothing and staring. Eventually, Brian opened the door and stepped out into the bright daylight. The sky above was clear and blue, and from the small rise in the landscape where the rest area sat he could survey the vast emptiness that constituted the Midwestern United States. He leaned against the fender of the van wishing he had a cigarette.

Millie tried to open the door and join him, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Grey.” She typed. “Help us open the door. It’s stuck.” Grey got out and went around to the back of the van, opening the latch and letting them all out into the sunshine. Without windows, the back of the van was dark, somehow darker than it should have been, Kite thought.

Millie stood beside Brian, looking out into the prairies along with him. His brow angled down in a pensive glare and she desperately wanted to soothe him. He glanced in her direction and she beamed a smile that brought a slight grin to his lips.

“That’s better.” Said her machine. Soon, everyone else joined them and Millie wished they would all just go away so she could talk to Brian alone, but that wasn’t going to happen here. Not now, anyway. After a long, collective silence, Grey finally spoke.

“Now what do we do?” Brian shrugged at the question. He had brought them this far and didn’t much feel like shepherding them further. Grey saw that Brian had reached the end of his road and would be of no help for at least a little while. He pulled the atlas from the van and gave it to Millie.

“Where’s the nearest large town?” He asked her. After looking the map over, she pointed to a dot somewhere back east of where they were now.

“This one.” She typed. “Columbia.” They must have driven through it, but nobody could remember having seen any ‘large’ towns. On the map, it looked several times larger than everything around it, but out here, there was nothing to see, so that bar was pretty low. It was bigger than an anthill, and that was about it.

“Ok.” Sighed Grey. “We’ll head there. Get some supplies. Get some rest and then see if we can replace some answers.”

“What kind of answers?” Millie wanted to know.

“Any kind.” Grey said. “Somebody’s got to know what’s going on here.”

“Yeah.” Typed Millie. “Those soldiers do. But they don’t seem too eager to help anybody.”

“Then we’ll replace someone else.” Grey’s spirited answer surprised himself. He wasn’t about to give up all hope just because some guys in the middle of nowhere refused to help him and he wouldn’t let his friends give up hope, either.

“You’re wasting your time.” Brian broke his silence. “Nobody knows what’s going on and if they did, they wouldn’t tell you.”

“You don’t know that.” Kite observed. Brian shot her a look and then decided against responding. Instead, he searched the glove compartment for any spare cigarettes he might have left behind last time he and Wes were in the van. There were none. He promised himself that he wouldn’t forget next time they were near a gas station to pick some up.

“Should we get going?” Grey asked no one in particular. Everyone piled into the van and Brian reluctantly got behind the wheel. At least he could get some smokes, he told himself. The rest of this trip was based on complete bullshit and he was tired of it.

As they drove along the empty highway, the road stretching straight out to the edge of the horizon, Millie pushed Grey out of the passenger seat so she could be near Brian. She wanted to talk to him, but he couldn’t hear her machine over the noise of the engine and the sound of the tires. The van was much noisier inside than the black SUVs, and less comfortable, too.

Brian hadn’t noticed Millie’s attempts to talk to him. He was paying only enough attention to the road to keep them on it. His mind was far back, trying to remember what life had been like when it was normal. He could barely contemplate normal now. It seemed strange to him that his old life had so quickly become unrecognizable to him. Shouldn’t it have taken longer? Had he really been that sheltered? He didn’t want to believe it but the evidence was unassailable. He had always thought that he possessed a tougher mind than most. That he was hardier than most, and maybe he was, but not by the margins he had imagined before. It turned out that he was just as scared and weak as most people. He grew steadily angrier with himself the more he thought about it. The next time he found soldiers, he promised himself, he was going to get some answers. Enough of this bullshit. Somebody somewhere was going to tell him something, goddamnit. For all he knew, there was a civil war going on and he wasn’t even sure what side he was on.

As they neared the exit that led to the bustling metropolis of Columbia, the unmistakable thump of helicopter rotors passed overhead. More of those metal grasshoppers clutching large, green boxes. There was a squadron of five, and as they flew past the town, one of them broke off from the group and looked like it was preparing to land. Brian stepped on the gas. Those soldiers at the checkpoint could see anyone coming for nearly three miles, but the pilots of that helicopter couldn’t. If they landed and got out of their aircraft, Brian figured he could tackle one of them and not let him up until he got some information. He knew that they would likely only be armed with pistols, so they couldn’t outgun him, and with the element of surprise, he’d be able to get at least one of them down while the others held anyone else at bay.

“Why are we speeding up?” Asked Grey as the van’s engine whined to its top speed.

“I want to talk to the pilots of that helicopter.” He replied. The group exchanged looks and realized that it was their best shot at replaceing some purchase on the situation. The helo was orbiting a patch of sky and descending as it did so. They could see it getting lower and lower but they were still about ten miles away. The speedometer displayed eighty-eight MPH and that was as fast as the pudgy little van could run. Brian’s foot threatened to press the gas pedal right through the floor. He was practically standing on it.

They watched as the helicopter disappeared into the trees. From this distance, it would be difficult to replace in a normal town, but this little place probably only had one street. Brian raced ahead, already planning on how he might get behind the helo and increase his chances of getting his hands on the pilot. If they could see as far there as he could out on the highway, it was going to be tough to sneak up on them.

“Can’t we go any faster?” Cried Grey. Brian shook his head and kept glancing at the clock. The helicopter had landed two minutes ago. He didn’t think they’d be on the ground for more than five and they were still seven miles away. Briefly he considered ordering everyone out of the van to lighten the load, and the only reason he didn’t is because he realized how long it would take for all of them to get out. He said a silent prayer to any deities that might be in the area with their antennae up and tore up the exit ramp. He slowed down just enough to make the left hand turn and stomped on the gas again, heading straight up the main road towards the tallest thing he could see near the landing zone, which was, of course, a Wal-Mart sign.

When he got close enough to see where the entry to the parking lot was, he turned right onto a side street hoping to replace an alternate route that would hide him from the chopper. There were few houses and little in his way, so when he couldn’t replace a proper road, he drove through the yards and fences until he found himself at the back of the shopping center. He raced past the dumpsters and loading docks, but as he rounded the edge of the building, it was just in time to see the helo lifting off, an empty box under its belly with a new full one in the middle of the mostly empty parking lot.

“Fuck!” He shouted and slammed his hands on the steering wheel. He had missed his chance. As he watched the helicopter rise, he thought he saw something strange, but before he could determine what it was, the aircraft jerked hard to the right, as though something ad anchored it to the ground. The balance of it had been fatally tilted, and the helo rolled more to the right until it was almost on its side and then fell to the ground with a gut-wrenching scrape. The rotors disintegrated and a piece of one flew past their windshield before they could even react. Brian blinked away the stun and stomped on the gas again.

He slid to a stop far enough away from the aircraft and jumped out, sprinting towards the crash. Fuel was pooling beneath the machine and he feared it might catch fire at any moment. He had never been this close to such a helicopter before and its massive size surprised him. He dashed to the front with Grey and Millie close behind him. The windshield had cracked, but it was still mostly intact. Brian braced himself as best he could and kicked the glass as hard as he dared. It popped inward and he could see that one of the pilots, the one on the side that had hit the ground, was dead. The other was still strapped into his seat and was only now regaining consciousness. Blood was trickling down the right side of his face and his arm looked terrible.

Brian reached inside the cockpit and tried to unbuckle the pilot’s harness, but it wouldn’t unclip.

“Wake up!” He shouted inches from the pilot’s face as the smell of fuel filled his head. The engine was still whirring and making an enormous clamor right next to them. This thing was going to explode. “Wake up!” He screamed again and the pilot slowly opened his eyes. For a second, he looked confused and scared, but his senses smacked him conscious in an instant.

“Jim!” The pilot tried shaking his co-pilot. “Jim, are you okay?”

“He’s dead!” Screamed Brian over the terrible din of the engine. “We’ve got to get you out of here! There’s fuel everywhere.” The pilot pushed Brian’s hands away and went back to shaking his co-pilot.

“Jim, get up!” As he jerked the restraints holding Jim to the chair, his head lolled to one side, grotesquely far. It was obvious his neck had been completely broken. “Jesus!” Recoiled the pilot.

“We’ve got to go!” Pleaded Brian. “Right now!” The pilot nodded and began trying to unbuckle his harness. As he tried to lift his right arm, he shrieked in pain.

“I can’t!” He grimaced. “I can’t move my arm.” Brian got further into the cockpit so he could take some of the pilot’s weight. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the puddle of fuel becoming a small pond. The engine was still howling like an angry dragon in a wind tunnel. The sound was terrifying. At last Brian released the latch and the pilot fell onto his dead friend, wincing in pain as he landed on his broken arm. Brian hoisted him up and pulled him through the small window out into the fresh air. They fell backwards into the spreading fuel and Brian tried to pull the man to his feet, but his right leg was apparently also broken and he fell sideways with a yelp. Brian cursed under his breath as a fire leapt to life inside the cockpit. He grabbed the pilot by the back of his flight suit and dragged him as fast as he could with Grey helping him. The pilot watched as his aircraft exploded in a dazzling fireball that sent a black mushroom cloud almost one hundred feet into the air. Hot air rushed past them and the pilot let himself collapse backwards so that he lay on his back. Softly, he began to weep.

“Someone set a trap for you.” Brian informed him. “We need to go.” The pilot made no sign that he had heard this. “Now!” The pilot still did not move. “Grey, stay here with him.” Brian jogged to the van and brought it over beside the downed pilot. Gingerly, they loaded him into the back of the van, shut the doors, and drove back towards the highway. Brian felt someone was close and he wanted to get as far away from that feeling as he could.

The pilot lay in the back, groaning, as Carla and Kite knelt beside him trying to give him any comfort they could.

“Has anyone seen a hospital?” Called Brian from the driver’s seat. Nobody answered. They couldn’t recall seeing anything for miles except fields and the occasional grain silo, then Brian remembered passing a state troopers truck inspection station somewhere earlier. They would have a first aid kit, at least, he thought to himself. He got back onto the highway and headed east, keeping his eyes trained for the little building they used to weigh eighteen-wheelers.

The sky was darkening and Brian had been driving for almost an hour. He was beginning to think that he’d made a mistake, but he finally saw it. Sitting beside the highway, on both sides, were two squat buildings with truck-sized scales in front of it. He pulled off the interstate and parked behind the building. The door was locked, but it was just glass and easily smashed. Inside, it was the typical utilitarian government décor of painted cinder block walls, drop ceilings, and metal furniture. It was so far from civilization that it had it’s own power supply and as the fluorescent lights blinked awake, he spotted what he was looking for. Under the main desk that faced the highway he found a first aid kid as well as a shotgun. It was like Christmas. He ripped into the first aid kit and took out anything that looked like it might help with pain. The pilot had fallen asleep in the back of the van some time ago. Fallen asleep or died. One of the two. Either way, he wasn’t moving.

“Help me get him inside.” Brian ordered Grey who obeyed. They carried him in and placed him on the counter top. Quickly, Brian found some mop handles and fashioned a splint for the pilot’s leg, securing it with electrical cords. He unzipped the flight suit and carefully cut away the sleeve so he could see the pilot’s injuries. His right arm took a sharp and sickening right turn below the elbow where both his ulna and radius appeared to have snapped cleanly. Luckily, there was no bone protruding through the skin. Brian doubted he could have done much in that case. Brian gathered himself and put his hands on the man’s arm. He wasn’t even sure he could do this. As quickly as he could, he pushed the bones back into place where they settled with a jaw-clenching scrape. The jolt of pain shot through the pilot and he awakened with a scream.

“It’s okay!” Brian held him down. “It’s all right. I think it’s back in place.”

“Fuck me!” Shouted the pilot.

“Sorry.” Offered Brian. “It’s been a while since I was in the Boy Scouts.” The pilot lifted his head to accept the painkillers.

“Where’s my co-pilot?” He asked.

“He didn’t make it.” Grey answered and the pilot suddenly remembered it all.

“Where are we?” He winced.

“At a truck weigh station somewhere in Missouri.”

“Do me a favor.” Sighed the pilot. “Don’t let me die in Missouri.” Brian smiled.

“I don’t think you’re going to die from a broken arm.” He assured him. “What’s your name?” The pilot cast a suspicious eye at them both.

“Wallace.” He finally said. “Earlier, you said someone set a trap for me? What did you mean?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Admitted Brian. “But I think I saw a cable tethering that container that you were trying to pick up to the ground.” The pilot considered this for a moment.

“That explains a lot.” He grimaced. “Did you see anyone in the area?”

“No.” Grey answered. “But we weren’t exactly looking either.” The pilot nodded and then tried to sit up.

“We need to get going.” He said, but Brian put a hand on his shoulder.

“You need to rest.” He told him. “We can get moving in the morning, but it’s going to be night soon and you’ve had a Hell of a day.” Wallace could see the light fading through the large glass window that faced the highway. “We saw a checkpoint earlier. Tomorrow we’ll take you there and get you fixed up.”

“How far away?” Asked Wallace.

“About two hours or so.” Wallace seemed to accept this and lay back down on the broad counter. Soon, exhaustion and the adrenalin crash dragged him back into sleep with the added help of painkillers.

The group had gathered at the doorway to the room and were watching him sleep when Brian told them his plan.

“Tomorrow we’ll take this guy back to the crossing and hopefully they’ll let us through so we can take him to get help.”

“And what if they don’t?” Asked Millie. Brian didn’t want to entertain that thought.

“They will.” He said. “They have to.” He hoped he was more convincing to the others than he was to himself. “We should all get some rest.” He added. “Do we have anything to eat or drink in the van?”

“I’ll go look.” Offered Kite and went out to the parking lot. Outside it was quite and peaceful as twilight fell and she stood for a long time staring out into the field behind the weigh station, listening to the birds and feeling the gentle breeze on her face. After the horrors of the day, she was glad to have this momentary respite, but reminded herself that she was supposed to be looking for food. She slide open the side door of the van, the noise of it breaking the trance of stillness and surveyed the wreck inside. There was blood on the floor and bags were overturned everywhere. It was going to take her a while to clean it all up. As she stood there quietly, she felt a cold, sharp edge press against her throat and a hand close around her mouth.

“Don’t move.” Said a man’s rough-hewn voice in her ear. “Don’t make a sound.” Kite froze and her mind disconnected. The hand pulled her back slowly into the encroaching darkness and as she watched the van getting smaller the further he guided her away from it, her strange brain regretted that she had failed to bring her friends their dinner. She hoped they wouldn’t be mad. She never even realized how weird a thought that was.