He glanced at Sandy. She was in pain. She wasn’t used to running. Still, she ran on. Please Lord; let her at least make it. She’s innocent. She never started anything. She’s a true victim here. Please God, let her make it.
“Keep going, you guys,” Ray said from behind. They were slowing down. Eugene couldn’t sense it. He was going as fast as he could, but his body couldn’t take it anymore. It wasn’t a straight line they were running. They were dodging trees, bushes, and low tree limbs. They were stumbling, falling; and still they pushed on. They hadn’t heard any gunshots for a while. Now they figured they’d gone another mile.
Another limb raked Eugene across the face. He could taste the pine needles in his mouth as he spit them out. He slapped the next branch away only for the ricochet to hit him in the head. Sandy occasionally let out a cry as she was repeatedly slapped by some conifer. Eugene could see her tiring red face panting for breath.
“Two miles to the border,” everyone heard Chad say.
Then Sandy fell. “I can’t go on,” she uttered. Eugene was doubled over as well. Everyone stopped. The Blues waited and listened for the sound of the enemy. There was silence.
“Captain Mueller, it’s Olin. I can’t find them.”
“Olin, where do you think they went? Come on, man, you’re a nine year veteran, a brigade commander. What would you do if you were Armstrong?”
“I thought he and his crew would climb some trees and blend in. We kept looking up, but so far, nothing. We don’t even hear a bird or an animal.”
“Remember, Olin, he’s got civilians with him. He can only move as fast as they can. They’ve got to be nearby. Fire a few rounds to the south. That’s where they’re most likely to be. Try to draw fire from them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How’s your ammo holding out?”
“We brought plenty, Captain.”
“Keep me posted.”
Olin gave the command. They flared out some more and each man was to fire off a dozen rounds into the woods. Then, silence. No return fire. “Again, men.” They fired off another dozen rounds. No return fire.
Olin reported in again. “Nothing, sir. They didn’t return fire.”
“Keep moving south and west. We must stop them. You want to spend some of that million dollar bounty, don’t you, Olin?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then move it.”
The Pilgrims could hear the gunfire from the north woods. Wrenn heard one of their rounds ricochet off a tree behind him, but he didn’t believe he was spotted. Just a stray bullet, he thought. “Get moving, everyone,” Armstrong said, trying to be quiet, yet forceful. The group was running as fast as they could now, and estimated they were about a mile and a half from the border. Gunfire was heard from behind them. It was what Armstrong feared the most. Enemy reinforcements were coming up from the east. They were still behind them, but exhausted as they were, they were too scared now to stop running.
“Olin,” Mueller said. “Brigade Commander Kostroma just radioed me. He’d been driving up the road when he heard voices from the trees. He fired into them, but got no response. They’re in pursuit now.”
“So they crossed over into the south woods, Captain?”
“That’s affirmative. Get all your men to the road. Run west to get ahead of them and cut them off.”
The Pilgrims thought they got a break. There was a bit of a clearing ahead. They could see that the woods were thinning. They continued to run. Eugene and Sandy were down to a light jog now, and even the Blues were huffing it.
A mile to go. Got to keep going, thought Eugene. His mind kept wandering. He thought of Dennis again. How can he do this to me? We were best friends. Why did he change? Could he have…? He couldn’t or wouldn’t finish that thought. He wanted to remember his friend the way he was. That time we played space people by the drainage ditch that became a shopping center a few years later, and then the anchor left. A few years later all the shops closed down. Then the town went under. Only a few stayed behind. They couldn’t or didn’t want to leave. Pamela was right. My world died and their ghosts are chasing me now.
Eugene felt like he couldn’t go on. His body rebelled to the point where he felt his legs had turned to lead. A wandering mind helped him deal with the pain from running and the fear of being killed. I have to get to the other side now. I feel it in my bones. There is no life here anymore. It was the first time I could truly realize it. Old America is dead; gone. We went from a productive economy where everyone made money to an economy where only a few people could. Then to an economy that tried to preserve capital by cutting expenses—just a fancy way of saying they preserved profits by robbing people of their money. Then they started running government like a business. They did the same thing to their constituents. Preserve capital—cut expenses. Get rid of welfare, minimum wage, government regulations—promote freedom. Freedom for whom? They legalized drugs, gambling, and prostitution. Business demanded it. Freedom for business. But what freedom were they left with? A shrinking customer base. Squeeze more out of them? That was the freedom. Then if someone decides to steal your wife; if someone else attempts to recruit you into their cause…. Oh stop this, Gene. You’d be doing this one day no matter what.
Eugene was thoroughly exhausted. He felt like he could barely move now. Somehow we morphed into a totalitarian system and no one knows. No one knows because we still have a democratic structure—elections, president, legislature, courts, etc. but it isn’t real anymore. This so-called lobbying outfit—NOGOV—runs the government—and they don’t just stop there. They run everything: the schools, the media, the police, and the courts. They convince everyone that this is the best of all possible worlds. Wasn’t that what Leibnitz said? Because God could control the world any outcome was always the best. Does NOGOV think it’s God?
The pain was getting worse now. Still, he wanted his mind to wander. The brain probe. That was the final solution when the media, the schools, the law, the government wasn’t enough to convince you of the new right and wrong, they’d just strap you to a chair and change your head. Christ. It’s not so dissimilar to the Nazi final solution—no gas chambers, just the brain probe.
Kostroma radioed Olin. “I think I hear them. You’ve got to get ahead of them. They’re less than a mile from the border.”
“Okay, Kostroma, I’m glad you got here. They’re out of my sight. We’re at the road now, and we’re double-timing it westward. Get them to fire back, if you can, so we can get a fix on them.”
“We’re still out of range. They keep moving. You can move faster if you’re on the road. Get as close to the border fence as you can, and then move into the south woods.”
“Okay, we’ll try to move faster.”
As the Pilgrims reached the thinned out area, they noticed a hiking trail going west. Armstrong thought this was a terrific break since they were getting close to the border, and the trail would allow them to make better time. But then two things went wrong. First, the trail curved around south and the woods thickened again, and then they heard gunfire from behind them. Armstrong figured it was about two hundred yards.
“Blues,” Armstrong said, speaking to his sharpshooters, and Ray and Cassandra. “Stay behind Eugene and Sandy to protect them. Shoot only at what you can see, but keep running.”