Dear Diary, It’s Me, Jessica: Chapter 24 (Book 2)

By the Author of Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica

Find the previous chapter here.

Dear Diary,

It’s me, Jessica.

“I need to think, Tony,”  Tasha put an emphasis on ‘Tony’ and glared at him.  She then folded her arms across her chest and began to pace.  She clearly did not need a wheelchair.  She stopped, turned to face Tony, arms still crossed, and said, “Okay.  We did not know how many of them there would be, or that they would be organized and armed.”  She paused and let out a sigh.  “We thought there might be the gate guard and a few others, maybe a half a dozen at the most.”

Tony and a few others shifted their posture, and the air suddenly had a sense of tension in it.  I got the impression there was some kind of ‘who leads here’ between Tasha and Tony, and maybe a few others.

“And we, Tasha,” Tony put emphasis on ‘we,’ “Should have done some real recon.”

The language Tony used reminded me of Jack, and I thought he might have a military background.  But at the same time, he was not like Jack.

“We,” Tasha emphasized, “Have not had a bite to eat in four days.  I don’t know about you, but we,” looked around to the others, “Now have full bellies with our little acting drama.  I don’t know about you, but I will call that a win.”

They might not have said it, but not only Tony, but others nodded or at least seemed to accept her assessment.  

“Okay,” Tony seemed to relent as he looked down.  After a moment, he looked at Tasha directly,  “What next?” he asked seriously.

Tasha sighed again. “I think we fooled them so far.  We get another two or three days of meals out of them, then we slip away in the night.”

“Two or three days,” the boy who I saw looking at me exclaimed.  “Are you kidding?  The guy with the dogs I am pretty sure is already on to us!  He did not turn his back on us once since we passed through that gate!”

“You mooning over the one witch does not exactly help, does it, Paul?  We have all seen how you have been looking at her,” Tony said flatly.

Paul, the boy who had been looking at me, suddenly looked away.

“Yeah, Paul, that’s what I thought,” Tony drove the point home.  “We have three pistols with four rounds each, against how many men with rifles?”

“Stop it,” Tasha said sternly.  “We need to stay focused.  All of us,” she looked around at the others.  “We keep up the act for two, maybe three days, then we leave in the night.  If things change, then we change the plan.”

“Not much of a plan,” Tony muttered.

“Well, Tony, I do not know about you, but I would like to be fed for at least two days if not three.  Beats the past three weeks, don’t you think?” she said sarcastically.  There were a number of others who muttered in agreement with her.

“Yeah.  Yeah, you are right,” Tony admitted, looking at the ground.  

“What if we came clean and told them the truth?” Paul suddenly asked.

His suggestion got a lot of negative responses from nearly the entire group.

“You really think they are just going to say, “Oh, that’s okay that you lied to us to get food?”  Tasha demanded sarcastically.

“And what if they find out how we used the same act to con all those others out of food and more?”  Tony added.

“And what we did to some of them,”  Tasha said in a lower tone with a hint of guilt.  The guilt spread over the rest of the group.  Suddenly, everyone was looking at the ground.

And I knew what I needed to do.

I stood up.

Entry two

And I took several steps from my hiding place before them to see me clearly, and placed my hands on my hips.

“What did you do to them?” I said with as much authority, command, and a small degree of sarcasm as I could muster in my voice.  

 

For a moment, they all stood, eyes wide at my sudden appearance.  Then Tony and a few others recovered from their surprise and just made slight motions toward me when I commanded,

“Don’t!  You are surrounded.  Isn’t that right . . . Jack?”

From the darkness on the other side of their group came the sound of Samson and the puppies growling.  This time, their growl was not low but much louder, hinting much more of impending savagery.  Knowing them well, I could imagine their lips pulled back, teeth fully exposed, eyes fierce, hair standing on end.  

Their growls suddenly stopped.  Jack’s voice came from out of the darkness,

“If one of you so much as farts sideways, I will end you all.”

After Jack disarmed them of their three pistols, ten members of the Four Corners militia with rifles marched Tasha, Tony, and the rest back to Four Corners proper.  Jack, Samson, the puppies, and I followed, Jack with a rifle he borrowed from one of the Four Corners militia.

He asked, “Jessica, how did you know to get ahead of them, to hide, and to know when we were out there, surrounding them in the darkness?”

“It is what you would have done.”

“Jessica, you are getting good.”

“As good as you?”

“That might take a little bit more time.”

I did not have to look.  I could hear him grinning.

Entry three

Tasha, Tony, and the rest set up the few tents they had, blankets, and settled in for the night.  Jack made sure they knew there would be a armed guard over them.  As usual, Jack had me stand with the first watch, wanting me to be well rested come sunrise.  

Jack and a few others piled on three-foot-long logs onto the red-hot coals of the bonfire.  Those would keep the fire going well into the night.  If it got too low, one of the watches would add more.

Jack arranged enough sleeping bags or bed rolls for two watches to be sleeping while one stood guard.  When the time came to change watches, we would, what Jack called, ‘hot rack,’ taking an already warm sleeping bag or bed roll.  I was going to take Jack’s ‘hot rack’ bedroll next to the fire.  Samson and the puppies would sleep next to me to help keep me warm.  

As Jack and the others settled in to catch sleep before their watches, the others and I took positions in a spaced-out, semi-circle around the tents in camp chairs, rifles across our laps.  In short order, the sounds of quiet snoring came in all directions.  The bonfire began to crackle behind me as the logs took to flame.  It was warm enough that a few of us had to move a few feet away.  

I thought about what I heard Tasha, Tony say about how they have not had a bite to eat in four days.  Something about the past three weeks.  And what they did to some others.  We have seen what people were willing to do for food.  Selling their bodies.  Stealing.  Beating and taking from others.  Even murder.  But for some reason, the idea of them doing their little act of being special needs to get other people’s confidence, to get food out of them, and then do something terrible to them… that really got under my skin.  To the point I found myself gripping the rifle a bit tighter than usual.  

A few hours later, one of the other guards who had a watch stood up and motioned to the rest of us that it was time for a watch changeover.  As I walked over to where Jack was sleeping, Samson and the puppies opened their eyes, sensing me approaching.  The sounds of their tails lightly tapping the ground woke Jack up.  He was up and alert in two seconds.  

“How do you do that?” I asked in a low voice as I handed him the rifle.  

“Years and years of experience,” he answered in a quiet grin.  

He motioned for Samson and the puppies to stay with me and walked off to take his watch.  

I settled in the bedroll, Samson and the puppies on either side of me, and was asleep in moments.

Entry four

I awoke with a start, startling the Samson and the puppies.  I sat up, blinking.  The sky to the East was bright, but the sun had yet to break the horizon.  The people of Four Corners were beginning to awaken.  Some were already getting cooking fires going.  Others were coming from the East gate slaughter pens with fresh cuts of meat, processed whole chicken, or rabbits to make breakfast.  

From the direction of the South gate, some carried metal buckets of milk that had been milked the day before and placed, covered, at the edge of the river to chill.

Samson and the puppies stretched out their backs and yawned as I rolled up the bedroll.

Jack and the others for the late watch stood with rifles at an easy carry as Tasha, Tony, and the others broke up their little camp.

“What are you going to do with us?” Tasha demanded with a degree of defiance despite Jack and the others holding rifles with the barrels pointed in her general direction.  Her arrogance made me want to slap her upside the head.  Samson and the puppies growled again.  Tasha ignored them and continued to glare at Jack.  After a moment, Jack gave the hand signal for Samson and the puppies to sit and be calm.  

“I am going to feed you breakfast,” Jack said simply.  “Give you enough for a small snack, water, and send you on your way,” he pointed to the bridge to the West. “That way is a city about a long day’s walk from here.  Two if you are slow.  What you do then is on you.”

“And if we don’t want to go to the city?”

Jack shrugged and said, “We skip breakfast and I toss you off the bridge.”

Tasha suddenly did not look so sure of herself, and the others stirred; some looked alarmed.

“You wouldn’t,” she said in disbelief.  

“He has done it before,” I deadpanned.  

She looked at me for a moment, then back to Jack,

“Okay, breakfast it is!”

Sean walked up to see what was going on.  Jack explained, then asked me to go and see about breakfast and a snack for Tasha’s group.  Jack would pay for breakfast in trade for some of his alcohol, Sean said he would log the transaction.  Everyone knew Jack was good for it, but they still wanted it recorded to keep everyone’s word.  I went back to the one vendor with the stew and bread from previous night to see if they had any leftovers.  They did and gladly took the trade, even carrying a big camp Dutch oven of stew back to the bonfire, with enough bread for breakfast and as a ‘snack’ for the road.

While they ate, I sat down next to Paul.

“So, been doing your little acting gig for a while?”

“Um, yeah,” he said looking down into his bowl of stew.  “We didn’t mean to.  It just kinda happened.  We were hungry.”

“I get it.  You are just lucky we are being kind.  Others would not be.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.  “We have seen what that looks like.”  Paul then leaned in close to me and whispered, “Could I stay here?  With you?”

I gave him a long look.

“Sorry, Paul.  You seem like a nice enough guy, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He started to say something, but I stopped him.

“Not a good idea.”  

I got up to let him finish his breakfast.

After breakfast, we gave them a water bucket to clean their bowls and utensils and another bucket to fill up whatever bottles they had.  As we escorted them, under arms, to the bridge, Jack spoke to Tasha and Tony about what they would find in the city.  At the bridge, Jack wished them luck.  Tasha gave him a look and stormed off through the chute.  Tony said thank you and offered Jack his hand.  They shook.  Then Tony and the rest followed Tasha.  Paul glanced at me with a hopeful look.  I waved goodbye.

Diary, it is funny.  Paul did seem like a nice guy, and, okay, he was cute.  But I also could not shake this feeling that I could not trust him.  Yeah.  Definitely not a good idea.

About 1stMarineJarHead

1^stMarineJarHead is not only a former Marine, but also a former EMT-B, Wilderness EMT (courtesy of NOLS), and volunteer firefighter.

He currently resides in the great white (i.e. snowy) Northeast with his wife and dogs. He raises chickens, rabbits, goats, occasionally hogs, cows and sometimes ducks. He grows various veggies and has a weird fondness for rutabagas. He enjoys reading, writing, cooking from scratch, making charcuterie, target shooting, and is currently expanding his woodworking skills.