Post by morriss003 on Mar 16, 2016 13:12:17 GMT -5
There was a fourth motorcyclist. I hadn’t noticed him before. He cursed and pointed a handgun at Mike. I knew Mike was about to die. A spear flew from the side, scraped the man’s arm, and slid by. Ralph had thrown it. The man cried out, dropped the gun, turned his bike, and sped away, clutching his bloody arm to his side. Around me girls were screaming and crying. I glanced to the side and saw them kneeling over something. I quickly looked away, my mind refusing to acknowledge what I had seen.
"They took Jackie, Ralph,” a girl cried out.
"What do you mean? Where's Jackie?" Ralph spun around, searching for the counselor.
"They took her.” She broke into sobs.
Wild eyed, he turned to Mike. "They got Jackie, Chief! They got Jackie! Please, Chief, please help me go and get her back!"
"I will, Ralph, I will.” Mike was shaking as he spoke to the Spears. "We're going to chase those guys. We're going to get the girls back. Get some water and some granola bars. All of the granola bars." He turned to me and added, "You're staying here.”
I started to make a lame protest, and to my shame and relief he added, “That's final. Get everyone across the river. Do whatever you have to do to make them go. Then get a lot of wood, and put it on the bridge. Get the camp fuel ready, but don't put it on the wood unless they come back. If they do, then put all the camp fuel on the wood and light it. Try to burn the bridge down."
"Chief, how will you find them?"
"There's fog all around us. They can't be far."
And then they were gone; chasing the men who had invaded our camp and had taken Jackie and Maria. Finally, as if waking from a dream, I turned to the crying girls kneeling on the ground. It seemed as if a haze lifted, and I could see my surroundings clearly for the first time in weeks. Colors that had been pale and washed out were now rich and vivid. I observed the white snow on the grey peaks above our valley, the green trees clad in their new spring needles, rising from the brown earth, and the eastern sun shining in a blue sky, partly overcast but clearing.
Though a part of me was still numb with disbelief, I had been given orders I needed to follow. But before I spoke to the others, I went to stand for moment over the body of my friend, Pete. One of the girls had draped her jacket over his head. There were no tears in my eyes, because I did not have time for them. I turned away.
"All right, you heard Mike,” I said in a hollow tone. “Everybody go over the bridge to the other side. Right now."
Most were too dazed to do anything except stare, but Gwen said, "I'm not leaving the girls' camp.”
I looked around helplessly and saw confusion on their faces. I suppose I had not given that order with any real force behind it. And then, as my gaze swiveled from side to side, I realized that I had to take care of Pete's body, and that meant I had to get these people across the creek. This was no time to ask politely.
I lifted the wood shaft of my spear in a threatening manner, and in a stern voice I commanded, "All of you, get over the bridge."
Some of them obeyed right away. Kathy grabbed Leah’s wrist and pulled her toward the bridge. Other girls, startled by my harsh manner, began arguing with me and with each other, and then one yelled, "You're not the boss of us!"
I heard Desi exclaim, "You idiot! He's trying to protect you.”
That was enough. Disobeying everything Pop had ever taught me, I strode forward and gave one of debaters a good rap on her shoulder with my spear shaft.
"Ow," she cried.
She and others, male and female, stared at me, shocked.
When I raised my spear again, she cried, “Don’t,” turned, and ran. The rest followed.
I took a second to consider what I needed to do about Pete, and then I went to Jackie’s cabin and retrieved one of her green blankets.
“Brian, Tomás, Douglas, help me,” I said, and with their help I lifted Pete onto the blanket.
We wrapped the cloth around his body and carried it to the other side of the creek. Kevin, Nathan, Paige, and Kylie had heard the Chief’s words, and they were already gathering brush and wood to pile on the bridge. We carried Pete to the north side of the dining hall, laid him out of the sun, and then we returned to the bridge.
“Brian, Tomás, drag that motorcycle over to this side.”
Normally those two would have complained about any little chore that was assigned, but that day they did everything I commanded without saying anything, unless it was to ask for more clarification.
While Brian and Tomás were rolling the motorcycle toward us, Kevin said, “Maybe we should let the girls get their stuff, too.”
That was a sensible suggestion, the first of many that other people made. I did what I had to do in order to carry out the Chief’s commands, but others pitched in, and their help eased my tormented mood. When I stopped for a moment I would feel as if I was slipping into a daze. Then I would shake my head and force myself to concentrate.
“Hold off, for a while,” I told the people piling wood and brush on the bridge. “We’ll pile the wood on the bridge first, but we’ll leave a space for one person to get by. Then, one by one, we’ll let them go back and get their stuff.”
It wasn’t necessary to organize this chore, because, Leah, Erin, and Desi were standing nearby, and they made the arrangements. It took over two hours for the girls’ equipment to be hauled over to our side, and we spent every moment watching the rise for the Spears or for the return of the bikers.
I knew in a vague way, that there was some kind of gas valve that could be opened to drain the gas from the motorcycle, but I didn’t want to take the time to figure out how to do it, so Brian, Tomás, Douglas, and Tyler turned the motorcycle upside down and drained the gasoline into a five gallon bucket. Kevin and Nathan carried the bucket to the edge of the bridge, so it could be poured onto the pile of wood. The gasoline would catch fire much faster than the camp fuel.
“What about that guy?” Tomás asked, pointing to the dead body of the motorcyclist.
“Leave him for now,” I said. I wasn’t risking anyone’s life just to roll the biker’s body into a more comfortable position, and I wasn’t going to cover it with one of our blankets either.
I had Tyler grab some plastic chairs from the cafeteria, so we could wait comfortably. Before he left, Mike had picked up the gun dropped by the biker. Brian was holding it in a nervous manner, switching it from hand to hand. I hoped he didn’t shoot himself. When Leah showed up with a container of powdered drink and several glasses, I finally got a chance to ask some questions.
“What the hell happened, Leah?”
“I didn’t see everything, because I was taking a nap, but when I left my cabin, I saw one of them holding Jackie on his bike. Then I heard Pete yell at him, and the man shot Pete in the face.”
I would hear more, later, but that was enough for then. I don’t know why we had thought we were alone in the Sierras, but I could see the assumption didn’t make any sense. Of course there were other people above the Fog. Who knew how many?
I spent most of my time sitting by the bridge, waiting, but in the late afternoon I got restless, so I walked up to the cafeteria. People were sitting in chairs or lying on the podium, and many were speaking quietly or in whispers. There was none of the boisterous conversation we usually engaged in, and almost none of the guys were in their cabins. I imagine they did not want to be alone with their thoughts and fears.
“Who has the kitchen duty?” I asked.
After a brief hesitation, a girl raised her hand and said, “I guess the girls from my cabin are up today.”
“Except that we don’t have a cabin anymore, thanks to you,” one of her roomies added, scowling at me.
“Get dinner ready.”
“No one feels like eating,” Tyler said.
“What do we have?”
“How about tuna sandwiches?” the girl who had raised her hand suggested.
“And tomato soup,” another person added.
I hung around for a few minutes until my anxiety became too intense, and then I hurried back to the others guarding the bridge. When Desi brought us sandwiches, I noticed tears in her eyes.
She brushed a sleeve across her face and asked, “Do you think John and the others are all right?”
“Sure they are,” I lied.
I know I didn’t sound convincing. She stifled a sob and returned to the cafeteria.
“What are we doing here?” Douglas snarled. As time passed he was getting more and more edgy. “Brian’s got a gun. Let’s go find them.”
“Yeah, a gun I’ve never fired that’s got a couple of bullets,” Brian snapped back. “I don’t even know where to aim.”
There were more exchanges like that one. The closer it got to sundown, the more our disquiet increased. My mood mirrored the light in the sky, and once it got black, our fear skyrocketed. Would we be attacked in the dark? We had to consider the possibility. I stayed by the bridge almost the entire day, but others waited as well. I had to give Brian and Tomás credit, because even though they had never shown much interest in the welfare of the other campers, they hung with me most of the time. The twins took turns as did Tyler and Douglas.
When I returned to the cafeteria, late in the evening, Erin had a question.
“Howard, where are we going to sleep?”
I had been thinking about that. “Here is what’s going to happen. The guys are going to sleep in here tonight, and the girls are going to sleep in the guys’ cabins.”
My announcement was met by a chorus of dismay from both girls and guys.
“Then where are we going to sleep?” Nathan demanded as he jumped up from his chair and pointed to the concrete floor.
I scowled at him and said, “It won’t matter to you, since you’ll be on guard duty all night.”
“Oh,” he replied, and he sat down again.
Some of the guys, like Nathan and Kevin, were Spears, sort of. They never ran laps and rarely showed up to spear practice, but they did stand guard over the food, and they were willing to run errands for Mike. Although we had furnished Nathan and Kevin with the materials to make their own spears, they had not yet done so.
“Why can’t we go back to our own cabins?” Paige moaned, and there was a refrain of agreement from the girls.
The question angered me. “What if those guys come back tonight?” I yelled. “Do you want to go with them? Do you think they’ll treat you better wherever they take you?” Their complaints subsided to muted mutterings. “The guys are going to get their blankets and sleeping bags and sleep in here tonight. You girls will sleep in the guys’ bunks. That’s final. If you don’t like it, complain to the Chief when he gets back.”
I left them to sort out the sleeping arrangements. About midnight, Brian handed the gun to Douglas and went to find a place to sleep. Tomás followed shortly after. I stayed with the twins, Tyler, and Douglas; all who had napped earlier. I was having a hard time staying awake; yawning almost every minute.
“Howard, you should take a break,” Nathan said. “We’ll watch.”
The others added their agreements, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving these guys without supervision. None of them were over thirteen. Eventually I gave up and lay down on a blanket, sleeping in my clothes. It was not cold that night, and clouds had rolled in at sundown, keeping the temperature bearable. Well before sunrise I woke. Tyler and Kevin were sleeping, but Douglas and Nathan were awake, if somewhat dingy.
“I’ll watch. You two get some sleep.”
Kevin lay down, but Douglas stayed with me until daybreak, and then despite snarling at me, he obeyed my order to lie down. Tyler and Kevin woke after sunrise, and the three of us kept an eye on the hilltop. It was a boring task, even though we feared the worst might occur.
“Can you guys watch for a while?” I asked, and they gave me sleepy nods.
I walked up to the cafeteria to see if I could get some coffee or another source of caffeine. The guys were sleeping on the floor or on the podium, so I woke them and ordered them to rise. I tried to stay out Kathy’s way. She and her cabin mates had kitchen duty that morning. I grabbed some cans of diet soda, took them back to the bridge, and resumed waiting.
I was rubbing my bleary eyes when I heard Tyler hiss, “Howard!” and when I turned, I saw Jacob on the road at the top of the hill.
“Tyler, go tell everyone,” I said.
It was no use trying to keep the others from rushing forward, so as a group we met Jacob halfway down the incline. He hailed us as we approached. A month ago he had returned, exhausted and dragging, from his trip to the Fog, but a month of hunting through the forest for game had increased his stamina. He hiked easily down the road.
“What happened? Where’s everybody else?” Kevin asked.
Jacob had good news and bad news. “They’re coming. Jackie’s dead, but Maria’s alive. We killed two of the men and captured the third. The Chief wants you to meet him on the road.”
In the cafeteria, Jacob made the announcement. There were a few tears shed, but for the most part, people were cried out. The general mood was one of defeat and hopelessness. I gathered Maria’s friends, Kevin, and Nathan and went to find the Chief, leaving Jacob in charge of the rest.
We found the Chief about a mile down the road and exchanged a somber greeting. Maria was with him looking worn and dazed, and she burst into tears when she saw Erin and Gwen. The girls moved away and cried together.
A man was standing not far from the guys, his hands bound behind his back. He was bearded and wore a leather jacket with emblems on the shoulders. It was my first look at the man who had killed Pete. I don’t remember feeling a great deal of hatred, but he frightened me. He didn’t say much, just stared at us, a half smile on his face. I stared back, my anger rising.
“Get some of these guys to take Jackie back to the camp,” Mike said to me.
Jackie was lying on a door the others had found at the place of her death. Ralph was put in charge of her body, and he, the twins, and Yuie carried our deceased counselor back to camp.
“What are you going to do with him?” I asked Mike.
He had already formulated a plan. “I want you to go back to our camp, and bring the rope that we use to play tug-of-war. And bring one of the big recycle barrels. Turn it on its side, and roll it down here. Tell everybody at the camp to come back with you. We’ll wait.”
“Will do,” I replied.
As I was leaving, I glanced back and saw Mike speaking to Maria. I can’t say that my sleepy mind fully grasped what Mike was thinking, but it wasn’t long before I began to see some possibilities. They troubled me, but I had my orders, so I put the thoughts away for that time.
When I arrived at camp, everyone was up and waiting in the cafeteria. I told them what Mike had said and sent Tomás and Douglas to retrieve the barrel from the storage room. Tyler carried the tug-of-war rope. Our crowd moved slowly up the incline and then down the road until we reached the point where the others were waiting. I was surprised to find Maria still there, because I was expecting her friends to take her to the camp, so she could rest from her ordeal.
Mike was speaking privately to Jacob, and I saw them exchange nods, as if they had agreed to a decision. The Spears took the barrel, placed it upside down on a level spot, and then they helped Mike climb on top. People were milling around and some had drifted away from the immediate area. He hollered to get everyone’s attention.
“All right, come close and listen.” The crowd quieted and moved closer. “Now, anyone who saw Pete get shot, raise your hand.”
Way too many hands were held up. Mike pointed to a guy who was nowhere near the parking lot when the bikers came and demanded to know where the guy had been when the shot that killed Pete was fired. He made some serious threats against those that lied to him and most the hands were lowered. But there were five who gave convincing accounts about what happened and they were sure that the bearded biker was the man who had shot and killed Pete. To my surprise, one of the accounts was given by our frightened mouse, Kathy. She was shaking as she spoke, but she did not waver.
“I did,” she said. “Pete was passing right by me when he was killed.”
“Are you sure that this man is the one who fired the shot, Kathy?” Mike asked.
“I’m positive,” she replied.
“Jacob, tell us what you saw when I sent you to spy on those men.”
Jacob stepped forward to stand next to the barrel, turned, and faced us.
“The Chief asked me to see what was happening in the clearing where they had Maria and Jackie. Jackie was already dead. That man…,” he pointed to our prisoner, “was on top of Maria, raping her.”
Ahmad, Rasul, Eric, and John were also called to report what they had seen. Then we waited until Ralph and Yuie returned and they confirmed the other accounts. When the testifiers were finished, no one had any doubt that this man had raped Maria and had killed Pete. He also killed Jackie, but at that moment, Maria was too shaken to testify.
I don’t think most of us realized that a trial was taking place, and of those who did, most did not realized the implications of this trial. Eric and Maria did, but I didn’t know it at the time. When Mike spoke to the man, I knew we were reaching the climactic moment.
“Did you kill the guy at our camp?”
The man laughed. “Maybe so, maybe no,” he answered. “Call the police, and let me go, and I’ll wait for them. I promise.”
I wondered what the man saw, looking at us. Did he see a bunch of frightened children? If so, he was right, but not entirely. He missed the rest of what was happening.
Mike was silent for a moment, and then he asked, “What about the fog?”
The man scowled. “So, maybe the police can’t get here for a while. You can’t keep me like this. I know my rights. You got those spears, and I got no gun. Let me go.”
Even bound, he thought he was still in control. He began describing the terrible things he would do to us when he got loose. He threatened the girls sexually, and spit on anyone who came close until Jacob jabbed him with a spear.
Mike let the man talk for a few minutes and then he jumped off the barrel and tipped it over. “Help me,” he said to the Spears.
Jacob, Rasul, and helped Mike roll the barrel down the road to a tree. They studied the sloping ground for a bit, and then they put the can on the higher side of a thick tree root protruding from the earth. A sharp drop was on the other side. The rest of us waited. Then Mike held up our tug-of-war rope.
“Does anyone know how to make a noose?”
The man, who had been forced to the tree by Ahmad and Eric, exclaimed, “Hey!”
A guy named Luis was standing beside me, and he asked, his tone incredulous, “Howard, can you accept this?”
Luis and his family had immigrated to the United States from the Ivory Coast. He was a special guy, very spiritual, and he had been asked by the old Admin to give a talk during the first Sunday religious service held at camp. Perhaps it was fortuitous that he was the one to ask that question, because as I watched Douglas take the rope and begin to make a noose, I was forced to examine my feelings about what was taking place.
Since I had played quarterback in the church league, I had been expected to attend church often, and that is what I had done. Though I was not a zealot, I was a Christian, I believed in God then, and I still do. And I believe that someday I will stand before my maker and be required to atone for my actions.
I said a silent prayer, what is the righteous thing to do?
I watched Mike climb onto the barrel, take the noose from Douglas, and slide the rope over the man’s neck. He had to throw the other end several times before it draped over a high branch.
“Yes,” I said to Luis. “This is necessary.”
The man was forced to climb onto the barrel, and the end of the rope was tied beneath a protruding hump on the tree’s trunk.
I strode to where Mike stood and heard him ask, “Do you have any last words?”
All the bravado drained from the man, and his face paled as he stared down at us. He had thought he was in no real danger, and now he realized that he was wrong. This kid standing next to me was going to hang him. He was about to die.
“I’m sorry about your friend.”
The enormity of what we were about to do enveloped me, and I realized that I could not let Mike do this deed by himself, so as he stepped behind the barrel I said, “I’ll help. I didn’t go with you when you fought, so I’ll do this.”
I meant that I would do it by myself, but Mike took my words to mean that we would do it together.
Ralph appeared at our sides. “Let me do it.”
Hatred was in his face, and he was working his mouth as if he was about to spit on the man.
“No, not you,” Mike said, shaking his head.
They argued about it for a few seconds, but Mike was adamant, and remembering their conversation, I can’t help thinking that Mike did Ralph a great service that day, because for all his faults, at heart Ralph was a decent guy, and in the hard days to come I believe his conscience would have tormented him.
“I’ll do it,” we heard a girl say, and when we turned, we faced Desi. We were about object, but stony faced she stated, “One of us should be a girl.”
She stepped behind the barrel and waited. I exchanged glances with Mike, and then we positioned ourselves next to her. The man began to take deep breaths, sucking in air and then expelling it reluctantly. Our campmates watched quietly, though many turned away. There were tears on lots of faces, and Luis began to pray aloud. Most of the watchers were scared, but they still watched. I’m sure some thought we were just trying to frighten the man. The three of us placed a foot against the barrel and braced ourselves. We gave the barrel a little push to ensure that it was firmly against the tree root.
“On three,” Mike said.
I heard John say, “I’ll count.”
On the count of three, I pushed my foot hard against the barrel. It lifted onto the tree root, fell over, and rolled down the slope. The man’s feet scraped the barrel, and then he dropped. I heard a snapping sound, and he swung forward and then back. I was in an awkward position, and though I tried to avoid him, his twitching leg brushed my shoulder, causing his body to turn. Then the tension on the rope reached its limit, and his body swung back, turning again as it spun. It turned back and forth several more times, each turn a little less than the one before. I glanced up and saw that his head was bent over at an awkward angle.
Luis prayed aloud, while around him people shed silent tears or became sick. Our little mouse, Kathy, raced a fair distance and vomited into a low bush. John and Eric ran after the barrel and caught it.
~~~~~
Three words come to my mind when I remember that act, and they are: hanging, lynching, and execution. Hanging describes the act. The other words describe the legality of the act. At that time, we believed that we were the last survivors on Earth. The only police were the Spears. The only court was the court of public opinion, and the only laws were the rules Mike, as Chief, laid down.
Mike could have hanged the man as soon as they discovered him raping Maria. He could have ordered Yuie to put an arrow through him, or he could have let Jacob spear him. Instead, Mike kept him alive until he could face witnesses to his crimes. He had none of the civilized forms of justice that had passed away with the coming of the Fog, but he did have the best trial we could give him. And when he was hanged, it was not in front of a baying mob thirsting for his death, it was before a silent group of teenagers, horrified at what was happening. I am firmly of the opinion that he was executed, not lynched, and given the same circumstances, I would do the same.
~~~~~
We were mostly silent as we hiked back to camp. John let others help roll the barrel, and for a time he walked next to Mike, his arm around the kid’s shoulder, his other hand holding Desi’s. Only once did Mike glance back at The Hanging Tree, and his expression was resolute; like me, he was absolutely convinced of the rightness of his actions. But there was also a hint of coldness in his face, and in that moment I saw in him what Pete had seen much earlier. Douglas had fashioned the noose. Desi and I had helped push the barrel from under the murderer. The other Spears had helped in various ways. But this kid could focus on a result, he could determine a plan to achieve that result, and he was capable of the hardheartedness needed to obtain his goals. He was the only one of us capable of organizing that event, of doing what had to be done without agonizing over the consequences. He was the first to understand what surviving the Fog meant.
Like the others, I had referred to Mike as the “Chief,” but like Ralph it was just a tag I had used. Unlike Ralph, I had used the tag in good humor, but it was still just a nickname. Not after that week; from then on, until his rule was over, Mike was my Chief, and I was proud to call him that.
"They took Jackie, Ralph,” a girl cried out.
"What do you mean? Where's Jackie?" Ralph spun around, searching for the counselor.
"They took her.” She broke into sobs.
Wild eyed, he turned to Mike. "They got Jackie, Chief! They got Jackie! Please, Chief, please help me go and get her back!"
"I will, Ralph, I will.” Mike was shaking as he spoke to the Spears. "We're going to chase those guys. We're going to get the girls back. Get some water and some granola bars. All of the granola bars." He turned to me and added, "You're staying here.”
I started to make a lame protest, and to my shame and relief he added, “That's final. Get everyone across the river. Do whatever you have to do to make them go. Then get a lot of wood, and put it on the bridge. Get the camp fuel ready, but don't put it on the wood unless they come back. If they do, then put all the camp fuel on the wood and light it. Try to burn the bridge down."
"Chief, how will you find them?"
"There's fog all around us. They can't be far."
And then they were gone; chasing the men who had invaded our camp and had taken Jackie and Maria. Finally, as if waking from a dream, I turned to the crying girls kneeling on the ground. It seemed as if a haze lifted, and I could see my surroundings clearly for the first time in weeks. Colors that had been pale and washed out were now rich and vivid. I observed the white snow on the grey peaks above our valley, the green trees clad in their new spring needles, rising from the brown earth, and the eastern sun shining in a blue sky, partly overcast but clearing.
Though a part of me was still numb with disbelief, I had been given orders I needed to follow. But before I spoke to the others, I went to stand for moment over the body of my friend, Pete. One of the girls had draped her jacket over his head. There were no tears in my eyes, because I did not have time for them. I turned away.
"All right, you heard Mike,” I said in a hollow tone. “Everybody go over the bridge to the other side. Right now."
Most were too dazed to do anything except stare, but Gwen said, "I'm not leaving the girls' camp.”
I looked around helplessly and saw confusion on their faces. I suppose I had not given that order with any real force behind it. And then, as my gaze swiveled from side to side, I realized that I had to take care of Pete's body, and that meant I had to get these people across the creek. This was no time to ask politely.
I lifted the wood shaft of my spear in a threatening manner, and in a stern voice I commanded, "All of you, get over the bridge."
Some of them obeyed right away. Kathy grabbed Leah’s wrist and pulled her toward the bridge. Other girls, startled by my harsh manner, began arguing with me and with each other, and then one yelled, "You're not the boss of us!"
I heard Desi exclaim, "You idiot! He's trying to protect you.”
That was enough. Disobeying everything Pop had ever taught me, I strode forward and gave one of debaters a good rap on her shoulder with my spear shaft.
"Ow," she cried.
She and others, male and female, stared at me, shocked.
When I raised my spear again, she cried, “Don’t,” turned, and ran. The rest followed.
I took a second to consider what I needed to do about Pete, and then I went to Jackie’s cabin and retrieved one of her green blankets.
“Brian, Tomás, Douglas, help me,” I said, and with their help I lifted Pete onto the blanket.
We wrapped the cloth around his body and carried it to the other side of the creek. Kevin, Nathan, Paige, and Kylie had heard the Chief’s words, and they were already gathering brush and wood to pile on the bridge. We carried Pete to the north side of the dining hall, laid him out of the sun, and then we returned to the bridge.
“Brian, Tomás, drag that motorcycle over to this side.”
Normally those two would have complained about any little chore that was assigned, but that day they did everything I commanded without saying anything, unless it was to ask for more clarification.
While Brian and Tomás were rolling the motorcycle toward us, Kevin said, “Maybe we should let the girls get their stuff, too.”
That was a sensible suggestion, the first of many that other people made. I did what I had to do in order to carry out the Chief’s commands, but others pitched in, and their help eased my tormented mood. When I stopped for a moment I would feel as if I was slipping into a daze. Then I would shake my head and force myself to concentrate.
“Hold off, for a while,” I told the people piling wood and brush on the bridge. “We’ll pile the wood on the bridge first, but we’ll leave a space for one person to get by. Then, one by one, we’ll let them go back and get their stuff.”
It wasn’t necessary to organize this chore, because, Leah, Erin, and Desi were standing nearby, and they made the arrangements. It took over two hours for the girls’ equipment to be hauled over to our side, and we spent every moment watching the rise for the Spears or for the return of the bikers.
I knew in a vague way, that there was some kind of gas valve that could be opened to drain the gas from the motorcycle, but I didn’t want to take the time to figure out how to do it, so Brian, Tomás, Douglas, and Tyler turned the motorcycle upside down and drained the gasoline into a five gallon bucket. Kevin and Nathan carried the bucket to the edge of the bridge, so it could be poured onto the pile of wood. The gasoline would catch fire much faster than the camp fuel.
“What about that guy?” Tomás asked, pointing to the dead body of the motorcyclist.
“Leave him for now,” I said. I wasn’t risking anyone’s life just to roll the biker’s body into a more comfortable position, and I wasn’t going to cover it with one of our blankets either.
I had Tyler grab some plastic chairs from the cafeteria, so we could wait comfortably. Before he left, Mike had picked up the gun dropped by the biker. Brian was holding it in a nervous manner, switching it from hand to hand. I hoped he didn’t shoot himself. When Leah showed up with a container of powdered drink and several glasses, I finally got a chance to ask some questions.
“What the hell happened, Leah?”
“I didn’t see everything, because I was taking a nap, but when I left my cabin, I saw one of them holding Jackie on his bike. Then I heard Pete yell at him, and the man shot Pete in the face.”
I would hear more, later, but that was enough for then. I don’t know why we had thought we were alone in the Sierras, but I could see the assumption didn’t make any sense. Of course there were other people above the Fog. Who knew how many?
I spent most of my time sitting by the bridge, waiting, but in the late afternoon I got restless, so I walked up to the cafeteria. People were sitting in chairs or lying on the podium, and many were speaking quietly or in whispers. There was none of the boisterous conversation we usually engaged in, and almost none of the guys were in their cabins. I imagine they did not want to be alone with their thoughts and fears.
“Who has the kitchen duty?” I asked.
After a brief hesitation, a girl raised her hand and said, “I guess the girls from my cabin are up today.”
“Except that we don’t have a cabin anymore, thanks to you,” one of her roomies added, scowling at me.
“Get dinner ready.”
“No one feels like eating,” Tyler said.
“What do we have?”
“How about tuna sandwiches?” the girl who had raised her hand suggested.
“And tomato soup,” another person added.
I hung around for a few minutes until my anxiety became too intense, and then I hurried back to the others guarding the bridge. When Desi brought us sandwiches, I noticed tears in her eyes.
She brushed a sleeve across her face and asked, “Do you think John and the others are all right?”
“Sure they are,” I lied.
I know I didn’t sound convincing. She stifled a sob and returned to the cafeteria.
“What are we doing here?” Douglas snarled. As time passed he was getting more and more edgy. “Brian’s got a gun. Let’s go find them.”
“Yeah, a gun I’ve never fired that’s got a couple of bullets,” Brian snapped back. “I don’t even know where to aim.”
There were more exchanges like that one. The closer it got to sundown, the more our disquiet increased. My mood mirrored the light in the sky, and once it got black, our fear skyrocketed. Would we be attacked in the dark? We had to consider the possibility. I stayed by the bridge almost the entire day, but others waited as well. I had to give Brian and Tomás credit, because even though they had never shown much interest in the welfare of the other campers, they hung with me most of the time. The twins took turns as did Tyler and Douglas.
When I returned to the cafeteria, late in the evening, Erin had a question.
“Howard, where are we going to sleep?”
I had been thinking about that. “Here is what’s going to happen. The guys are going to sleep in here tonight, and the girls are going to sleep in the guys’ cabins.”
My announcement was met by a chorus of dismay from both girls and guys.
“Then where are we going to sleep?” Nathan demanded as he jumped up from his chair and pointed to the concrete floor.
I scowled at him and said, “It won’t matter to you, since you’ll be on guard duty all night.”
“Oh,” he replied, and he sat down again.
Some of the guys, like Nathan and Kevin, were Spears, sort of. They never ran laps and rarely showed up to spear practice, but they did stand guard over the food, and they were willing to run errands for Mike. Although we had furnished Nathan and Kevin with the materials to make their own spears, they had not yet done so.
“Why can’t we go back to our own cabins?” Paige moaned, and there was a refrain of agreement from the girls.
The question angered me. “What if those guys come back tonight?” I yelled. “Do you want to go with them? Do you think they’ll treat you better wherever they take you?” Their complaints subsided to muted mutterings. “The guys are going to get their blankets and sleeping bags and sleep in here tonight. You girls will sleep in the guys’ bunks. That’s final. If you don’t like it, complain to the Chief when he gets back.”
I left them to sort out the sleeping arrangements. About midnight, Brian handed the gun to Douglas and went to find a place to sleep. Tomás followed shortly after. I stayed with the twins, Tyler, and Douglas; all who had napped earlier. I was having a hard time staying awake; yawning almost every minute.
“Howard, you should take a break,” Nathan said. “We’ll watch.”
The others added their agreements, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving these guys without supervision. None of them were over thirteen. Eventually I gave up and lay down on a blanket, sleeping in my clothes. It was not cold that night, and clouds had rolled in at sundown, keeping the temperature bearable. Well before sunrise I woke. Tyler and Kevin were sleeping, but Douglas and Nathan were awake, if somewhat dingy.
“I’ll watch. You two get some sleep.”
Kevin lay down, but Douglas stayed with me until daybreak, and then despite snarling at me, he obeyed my order to lie down. Tyler and Kevin woke after sunrise, and the three of us kept an eye on the hilltop. It was a boring task, even though we feared the worst might occur.
“Can you guys watch for a while?” I asked, and they gave me sleepy nods.
I walked up to the cafeteria to see if I could get some coffee or another source of caffeine. The guys were sleeping on the floor or on the podium, so I woke them and ordered them to rise. I tried to stay out Kathy’s way. She and her cabin mates had kitchen duty that morning. I grabbed some cans of diet soda, took them back to the bridge, and resumed waiting.
I was rubbing my bleary eyes when I heard Tyler hiss, “Howard!” and when I turned, I saw Jacob on the road at the top of the hill.
“Tyler, go tell everyone,” I said.
It was no use trying to keep the others from rushing forward, so as a group we met Jacob halfway down the incline. He hailed us as we approached. A month ago he had returned, exhausted and dragging, from his trip to the Fog, but a month of hunting through the forest for game had increased his stamina. He hiked easily down the road.
“What happened? Where’s everybody else?” Kevin asked.
Jacob had good news and bad news. “They’re coming. Jackie’s dead, but Maria’s alive. We killed two of the men and captured the third. The Chief wants you to meet him on the road.”
In the cafeteria, Jacob made the announcement. There were a few tears shed, but for the most part, people were cried out. The general mood was one of defeat and hopelessness. I gathered Maria’s friends, Kevin, and Nathan and went to find the Chief, leaving Jacob in charge of the rest.
We found the Chief about a mile down the road and exchanged a somber greeting. Maria was with him looking worn and dazed, and she burst into tears when she saw Erin and Gwen. The girls moved away and cried together.
A man was standing not far from the guys, his hands bound behind his back. He was bearded and wore a leather jacket with emblems on the shoulders. It was my first look at the man who had killed Pete. I don’t remember feeling a great deal of hatred, but he frightened me. He didn’t say much, just stared at us, a half smile on his face. I stared back, my anger rising.
“Get some of these guys to take Jackie back to the camp,” Mike said to me.
Jackie was lying on a door the others had found at the place of her death. Ralph was put in charge of her body, and he, the twins, and Yuie carried our deceased counselor back to camp.
“What are you going to do with him?” I asked Mike.
He had already formulated a plan. “I want you to go back to our camp, and bring the rope that we use to play tug-of-war. And bring one of the big recycle barrels. Turn it on its side, and roll it down here. Tell everybody at the camp to come back with you. We’ll wait.”
“Will do,” I replied.
As I was leaving, I glanced back and saw Mike speaking to Maria. I can’t say that my sleepy mind fully grasped what Mike was thinking, but it wasn’t long before I began to see some possibilities. They troubled me, but I had my orders, so I put the thoughts away for that time.
When I arrived at camp, everyone was up and waiting in the cafeteria. I told them what Mike had said and sent Tomás and Douglas to retrieve the barrel from the storage room. Tyler carried the tug-of-war rope. Our crowd moved slowly up the incline and then down the road until we reached the point where the others were waiting. I was surprised to find Maria still there, because I was expecting her friends to take her to the camp, so she could rest from her ordeal.
Mike was speaking privately to Jacob, and I saw them exchange nods, as if they had agreed to a decision. The Spears took the barrel, placed it upside down on a level spot, and then they helped Mike climb on top. People were milling around and some had drifted away from the immediate area. He hollered to get everyone’s attention.
“All right, come close and listen.” The crowd quieted and moved closer. “Now, anyone who saw Pete get shot, raise your hand.”
Way too many hands were held up. Mike pointed to a guy who was nowhere near the parking lot when the bikers came and demanded to know where the guy had been when the shot that killed Pete was fired. He made some serious threats against those that lied to him and most the hands were lowered. But there were five who gave convincing accounts about what happened and they were sure that the bearded biker was the man who had shot and killed Pete. To my surprise, one of the accounts was given by our frightened mouse, Kathy. She was shaking as she spoke, but she did not waver.
“I did,” she said. “Pete was passing right by me when he was killed.”
“Are you sure that this man is the one who fired the shot, Kathy?” Mike asked.
“I’m positive,” she replied.
“Jacob, tell us what you saw when I sent you to spy on those men.”
Jacob stepped forward to stand next to the barrel, turned, and faced us.
“The Chief asked me to see what was happening in the clearing where they had Maria and Jackie. Jackie was already dead. That man…,” he pointed to our prisoner, “was on top of Maria, raping her.”
Ahmad, Rasul, Eric, and John were also called to report what they had seen. Then we waited until Ralph and Yuie returned and they confirmed the other accounts. When the testifiers were finished, no one had any doubt that this man had raped Maria and had killed Pete. He also killed Jackie, but at that moment, Maria was too shaken to testify.
I don’t think most of us realized that a trial was taking place, and of those who did, most did not realized the implications of this trial. Eric and Maria did, but I didn’t know it at the time. When Mike spoke to the man, I knew we were reaching the climactic moment.
“Did you kill the guy at our camp?”
The man laughed. “Maybe so, maybe no,” he answered. “Call the police, and let me go, and I’ll wait for them. I promise.”
I wondered what the man saw, looking at us. Did he see a bunch of frightened children? If so, he was right, but not entirely. He missed the rest of what was happening.
Mike was silent for a moment, and then he asked, “What about the fog?”
The man scowled. “So, maybe the police can’t get here for a while. You can’t keep me like this. I know my rights. You got those spears, and I got no gun. Let me go.”
Even bound, he thought he was still in control. He began describing the terrible things he would do to us when he got loose. He threatened the girls sexually, and spit on anyone who came close until Jacob jabbed him with a spear.
Mike let the man talk for a few minutes and then he jumped off the barrel and tipped it over. “Help me,” he said to the Spears.
Jacob, Rasul, and helped Mike roll the barrel down the road to a tree. They studied the sloping ground for a bit, and then they put the can on the higher side of a thick tree root protruding from the earth. A sharp drop was on the other side. The rest of us waited. Then Mike held up our tug-of-war rope.
“Does anyone know how to make a noose?”
The man, who had been forced to the tree by Ahmad and Eric, exclaimed, “Hey!”
A guy named Luis was standing beside me, and he asked, his tone incredulous, “Howard, can you accept this?”
Luis and his family had immigrated to the United States from the Ivory Coast. He was a special guy, very spiritual, and he had been asked by the old Admin to give a talk during the first Sunday religious service held at camp. Perhaps it was fortuitous that he was the one to ask that question, because as I watched Douglas take the rope and begin to make a noose, I was forced to examine my feelings about what was taking place.
Since I had played quarterback in the church league, I had been expected to attend church often, and that is what I had done. Though I was not a zealot, I was a Christian, I believed in God then, and I still do. And I believe that someday I will stand before my maker and be required to atone for my actions.
I said a silent prayer, what is the righteous thing to do?
I watched Mike climb onto the barrel, take the noose from Douglas, and slide the rope over the man’s neck. He had to throw the other end several times before it draped over a high branch.
“Yes,” I said to Luis. “This is necessary.”
The man was forced to climb onto the barrel, and the end of the rope was tied beneath a protruding hump on the tree’s trunk.
I strode to where Mike stood and heard him ask, “Do you have any last words?”
All the bravado drained from the man, and his face paled as he stared down at us. He had thought he was in no real danger, and now he realized that he was wrong. This kid standing next to me was going to hang him. He was about to die.
“I’m sorry about your friend.”
The enormity of what we were about to do enveloped me, and I realized that I could not let Mike do this deed by himself, so as he stepped behind the barrel I said, “I’ll help. I didn’t go with you when you fought, so I’ll do this.”
I meant that I would do it by myself, but Mike took my words to mean that we would do it together.
Ralph appeared at our sides. “Let me do it.”
Hatred was in his face, and he was working his mouth as if he was about to spit on the man.
“No, not you,” Mike said, shaking his head.
They argued about it for a few seconds, but Mike was adamant, and remembering their conversation, I can’t help thinking that Mike did Ralph a great service that day, because for all his faults, at heart Ralph was a decent guy, and in the hard days to come I believe his conscience would have tormented him.
“I’ll do it,” we heard a girl say, and when we turned, we faced Desi. We were about object, but stony faced she stated, “One of us should be a girl.”
She stepped behind the barrel and waited. I exchanged glances with Mike, and then we positioned ourselves next to her. The man began to take deep breaths, sucking in air and then expelling it reluctantly. Our campmates watched quietly, though many turned away. There were tears on lots of faces, and Luis began to pray aloud. Most of the watchers were scared, but they still watched. I’m sure some thought we were just trying to frighten the man. The three of us placed a foot against the barrel and braced ourselves. We gave the barrel a little push to ensure that it was firmly against the tree root.
“On three,” Mike said.
I heard John say, “I’ll count.”
On the count of three, I pushed my foot hard against the barrel. It lifted onto the tree root, fell over, and rolled down the slope. The man’s feet scraped the barrel, and then he dropped. I heard a snapping sound, and he swung forward and then back. I was in an awkward position, and though I tried to avoid him, his twitching leg brushed my shoulder, causing his body to turn. Then the tension on the rope reached its limit, and his body swung back, turning again as it spun. It turned back and forth several more times, each turn a little less than the one before. I glanced up and saw that his head was bent over at an awkward angle.
Luis prayed aloud, while around him people shed silent tears or became sick. Our little mouse, Kathy, raced a fair distance and vomited into a low bush. John and Eric ran after the barrel and caught it.
~~~~~
Three words come to my mind when I remember that act, and they are: hanging, lynching, and execution. Hanging describes the act. The other words describe the legality of the act. At that time, we believed that we were the last survivors on Earth. The only police were the Spears. The only court was the court of public opinion, and the only laws were the rules Mike, as Chief, laid down.
Mike could have hanged the man as soon as they discovered him raping Maria. He could have ordered Yuie to put an arrow through him, or he could have let Jacob spear him. Instead, Mike kept him alive until he could face witnesses to his crimes. He had none of the civilized forms of justice that had passed away with the coming of the Fog, but he did have the best trial we could give him. And when he was hanged, it was not in front of a baying mob thirsting for his death, it was before a silent group of teenagers, horrified at what was happening. I am firmly of the opinion that he was executed, not lynched, and given the same circumstances, I would do the same.
~~~~~
We were mostly silent as we hiked back to camp. John let others help roll the barrel, and for a time he walked next to Mike, his arm around the kid’s shoulder, his other hand holding Desi’s. Only once did Mike glance back at The Hanging Tree, and his expression was resolute; like me, he was absolutely convinced of the rightness of his actions. But there was also a hint of coldness in his face, and in that moment I saw in him what Pete had seen much earlier. Douglas had fashioned the noose. Desi and I had helped push the barrel from under the murderer. The other Spears had helped in various ways. But this kid could focus on a result, he could determine a plan to achieve that result, and he was capable of the hardheartedness needed to obtain his goals. He was the only one of us capable of organizing that event, of doing what had to be done without agonizing over the consequences. He was the first to understand what surviving the Fog meant.
Like the others, I had referred to Mike as the “Chief,” but like Ralph it was just a tag I had used. Unlike Ralph, I had used the tag in good humor, but it was still just a nickname. Not after that week; from then on, until his rule was over, Mike was my Chief, and I was proud to call him that.