with a handful of others, appealed to them to put one last band together to track Larry down.

“You saw them! There’s maybe sixty or seventy of them left. We can put together a group to go after them and leave tonight!”

“And then what?” Jim shook his head wearily. “What would you do once you find him? Throw another hundred bodies at them? Two hundred? Three?”

“Yes!” Eric blurted before I could try reason. “Yes, we would! If that’s what it takes, then we do it. The man killed hundreds of our neighbors, our wives and children.” Tears ran freely down his cheeks. “He killed my son! He destroyed our homes and our families.” Eric turned and faced the crowd. “Who the hell here hasn’t lost a friend or relative? Did we do anything to him? Did we?

“Troutman started his killing on D-day. The first opportunity he got, he killed a bunch of innocent folks. Tried to kill Leeland. Larry Troutman had four men with him then. Two years later, he had three thousand! From four to three thousand in less than two years! This time, he’ll be starting with more than fifty! We can’t let him do it again, or next time he’ll come in with three times as many people, and there won’t be any stopping him.”

No matter how much we reasoned or pleaded, it did no good. Then Eric made things worse when he lost his temper, calling them “a bunch of ball-less fucking cowards” before he stormed out.

The vote was unanimous. I couldn’t blame them, since I was as weary as anyone else. But neither could I believe that Larry was going to simply leave and let us get on with our lives. His ego wouldn’t allow it. He had hunted me for nearly two years for having dared deny him our supplies. The latest defeat would, in his eyes, be infinitely more insulting. It would gnaw at him, festering until he found a way to exact his revenge.

But Jim summed up the town’s weariness later when I appealed to him in private. “Let it go, Lee,” he told me with a sigh. “We won. It’s over.”

Our war had simply been too costly, and Rejas’s soul had been damaged, perhaps beyond repair.

Exhausted beyond belief, I walked through streets as dark as my mood. The more I dwelt on the evening, the darker my mood became, working me into a foul depression that made me want to strike out at someone, anyone.

When Eric found me, he was evidently just as angry. “Leeland!”

Swallowing a curse, I scowled back at him. “What do you want, Eric?”

“I want to know why you let them get away with that goddamned ruling. I want to know why you didn’t fight with me to get a group together and go after that son of a bitch!” His belligerent tone grated, and it was just what I needed to put me over the edge.

Without thinking, I shoved him. “You’ve already pissed off what’s left of the council, Eric. You don’t want to piss me off, too!”

His balance was off for a second, and I think it shocked him that I had actually shoved him. I saw the emotions on his face go from confusion to fury in less than a second. Then, he swung at me.

It wasn’t the wild punch of a drunken brawler, telegraphed and uncontrolled. It was a linear missile thrown by a man who had trained his body for striking efficiency for most of his adult life. I barely had time to see it coming before I felt the impact on my left cheek.

I staggered, but managed to stay on my feet as Eric screamed, “He fucking killed my son! You don’t know what that’s like.” His tears flowed freely. “He killed Andrew.”

As abruptly as that, his anger was spent, and he raised his hands to cover his face. His sobbing robbed me of my anger as well, and I approached him cautiously. “Eric? I’m sorry, man.” I didn’t know what else to say and laid an awkward hand on the man’s shoulder.

The contact seemed to lend him the strength to push his emotions back. After a few seconds, he sniffed and looked back at me. “Sorry, Lee.” Then he pushed my hand away. “You and me, we’re the same. D-day changed us all, but you… me… a few others… it’s chosen us to be warriors. We’ve grown into our roles in this world. Not just soldiers, but true warriors. The kind that hasn’t existed outside the military in a long time. I’ve thought of you as a brother because of that bond.”

I nodded. “I feel the same way, Eric.”

“There are other things that pull us, though. That first night, when they killed Andrew, I knew that it wasn’t the poor bastard Megan killed that caused his death. And I knew I would find out who it was, and I would do whatever it took to kill him.”

“Look Eric, I know how you feel, but-”

“No, you don’t.” He shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, but you still have your kids. You just can’t understand. A man would go through hell and back for his kids.” His face took on a look of grim resolve. “A man would do anything for his kids.”

He turned and walked away, saying, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

There was plenty of work to do over the next several days, and it was eerily familiar. Once more, we gathered bodies and took them to communal graves. Once more, we inspected abandoned homes. This time, however, we were especially careful, looking for any booby traps that Larry’s men may have left behind.

I was on one of those salvage crews the next Saturday morning when Ken found me. He’d been running and was out of breath, but the look in his eyes told me there was trouble. “You’d better get home, Lee.”

I dropped my shovel. “What’s wrong?”

“Zach, it’s… Zach…”

I’d been riding the dirt bike around during the days, so I sprinted to where I’d left it and immediately tore cross-country toward home. Debra sat in the front yard when I got there, rocking and holding herself as if holding in a great wound.

“Deb?”

The crowd gathered around her parted as I approached. Someone laid a hand on my shoulder in sympathy, saying things that were probably meant to be consoling.

Jim was there, and he tried to pull me aside, but I wasn’t having any of it. I went straight to Debra. Afraid to ask, but more afraid of not knowing, I forced myself to question her. “Zach?”

Still weeping, she handed me a piece of paper. Fearing what it might say, I refused to read it. Instead, I turned to Jim. The expression on his face put a chill through my soul. “Where’s Zachary?” God, don’t let him be dead! Not my son, my baby! I grabbed Jim in panic. “Where’s Zachary?”

“We think he’s okay, Leeland. Now calm down. You ain’t doin’ nobody no good like this.”

My breath burst forth before I realized that I had been holding it. I took a few deep breaths and nodded. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right.” First, do what needs to be done. Time enough for emotions later. “Okay. What happened?”

“Read the note.”

I looked down at the paper I held in my hand. It was one of Larry’s old “turn over the war criminal” fliers. Eric’s note was scrawled on the back.

I’m truly sorry about this, Leeland. I’m taking Zachary to Larry. I made arrangements to meet with him in Bixby. I told him I’d be bringing your son to him to prove to him that I’ve turned against you. I guess in a way, I have.

The way I see it, there are only a few ways this can play out. Either I fool Larry enough to get close to him and kill him, or I don’t, he kills me, and you come after him to get Zachary.

Either way, I get to kill the motherfucker.

If you want Zachary back, you’ll have to come take him from Larry.

Consider this my veto of the council’s vote,

Eric

I read again before I turned to Jim in disbelief. I couldn’t believe what I had read. “Eric? Eric did this?”

“Looks like it.”

I’m not sure how long I stood there before I became aware of Ken standing beside me. For the first time in months, I felt truly lost. “He took my boy, Ken. He got Zach.”

He nodded, then handed me the bundle he carried. I regarded the bundle dumbly for a moment before recognizing my machetes and knives, the same blades I’d been so eager to put away a few short days

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