Boondocks

Chapter 47: Help

FERN

My shots stilled as the door to one of the buildings exploded open. Tex emerged like a God of War. No fear. No pause. It was the other Tex, and he had no cigar. He had a stick of dynamite, already lit, and he threw it across the ground, into the line of officials, then ran toward it.

The explosion stole my breath. Dirt and smoke and blood erupted like a geyser. A hoard of men poured from the doorway after him.  Some barely looked alive. They were being wrangled like escaped cows; a panicked swarm barely kept together by Tex's men. Another boom rattled the world, and Tex disappeared into the cloud of debris.

Too much was happening at once. Too much chaos. This couldn't be a plan. He couldn't have planned for any of it.

"Pretty girl!" Sergio barked as if he'd been calling me for hours. "What do you see?"

"They've—" My eyes scanned the crowds, searching for him, coming up empty. "They set off the dynamite."

He muttered an obvious curse in Russian. "Tell me something is not obvious!"

"There are—there are three groups." Yes, I could see that now. "One group is leading prisoners toward the far side." I scanned to scattered pieces below, trying to make sense of them. "They're getting them out." Another cluster of men moved together to the other buildings, beating off locks and releasing desperate hoards. Emaciated husks moved like ants from a destroyed colony. "The buildings on the outside, that's where they keep them. Another group is opening them."

Where was he? My throat dried, eyes burned. I needed to blink, but I couldn't risk missing him. Men fell, too many men. The ones releasing the prisoners dwindled until only a few remained, and as the smoke cleared, the carnage magnified.

He was hurt. Tex hobbled, half-carried by Merle, bloody and blackened. They hurried toward the main building, and the residual debris clouded around them like the Red Sea, forming a path to deliver them out of the fray.

I held my breath, watching as if keeping my eyes on him would somehow keep him safe. If I was watching, he'd be okay. If I could see him, I could will it so. But he disappeared from view. "Tex and his group made it inside the building." No doubt that was a victory, but it didn't sound like it as I said it. Because it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like I'd never see him again.

Flames shot up on the far side, stealing my attention. "They've got a flamethrower," I shouted down to Sergio. "They're taking out the first tower." Two men jumped out of it, but it was too dark and far away to see them land. I scanned the other towers as more and more men retreated. They were losing their advantage.

Without the towers to keep them at bay, the officials marched forward, piling against the fence on the East side, where the largest group was already outside, firing from the darkness. Occupying them. 

Too many bodies to count littered the ground. Blackened craters smoldered and smoked, the severed remains of the greater good scattered around them. Arms, legs, torsos, reminders of yesterday. Of the deer. Tex sitting next to it, my favorite smile on his face. The people onboard when they heard they'd be eating red meat. Its death had served a purpose. The gunfire didn't seem as loud as I stared, transfixed, at the tattooed men, in their jeans and leather, laying still among the masses. Their purpose. Their sacrifice. To save people from this hell. I searched the barracks. They still weren't all opened. Two men remained, but they weren't Tex's men. They were too thin, too bare, too pale and fragile. "The group freeing the prisoners is gone." They didn't look strong enough to open the door if it wasn't chained shut. Skeletal arms swung the butt of a rifle over and over with no result. They could have left already. They could have been out, steadily moving as far away as possible. They were good people, helping, despite having nothing to give. "We have to help," I said, more to myself than Sergio. "The officials are gathering against the fence. They're distracted. We can make it in on the opposite side—"