Читать книгу Rita Royale - Terry Jr. Anderson - Страница 6

Rita sat on a chair in the back row. She didn’t know anyone, though she did say hello to a couple people on the way inside and she didn’t see Bill in the room. He must be on guard with Karen, she thought. She watched a large overweight man walk to the front of the chairs. He faced the dozen or so people in the room. Everyone including herself carried a rifle or handgun. She had her handgun strapped and secured under her baggy denim shirt.

“The meeting can now come to order,” said the fat man. He looked over the few people in the room. “First, I just want to say that I think this blockade of St. Victor is a waste of time. I say we should go along with the government. We can’t win with guns. We can’t win against the government.”

Some people muttered quietly. Their look questioning.

The fat man continued. “I know, I know, you all want to fight, but we can’t win.”

Rita was confused, she stood to her feet without thinking. “Why can’t we win?”

He looked at her. “Do I know you? You don’t live here do you?”

“Karen Blake is my sister. I live here now.”

“What’s your name?”

“Rita Royale. What’s yours?” Rita could here snickering from a few people.

“I’m Peter Brown. I was chosen to preside over this meeting.”

“Well Peter Brown, I don’t agree with you.”

“You can speak when I open the meeting to questions.”

A tall man, mid thirties, stood to his feet. “I don’t agree with you either, Pillsbury.”

“I don’t like being called that, Tom.”

He glared at the fat man. “I don’t care what you like. Pillsbury.”

Peter Brown looked at him, averted his eyes. Looked at Rita. “You can speak in a few minutes.”

Rita said nothing, nodded slightly, sat down on the metal chair with the wooden seat.

Tom James studied the fat man. “We’re going after them tomorrow night.”

He opened his eyes wide. “You can’t be serious?”

“Dead serious.” He stared at Peter Brown. “You’re still on the town Council in Assiniboia, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So I think that maybe you and the muzzies are cooking up a deal.”

“I am not. I have nothing to do with them.”

Tom raised his rifle and pointed it at Peter Brown’s face. “I think you are. I’ve always thought you’re nothing but a fat chicken shit politician.” He held his aim. “And a coward.”

“So you’re going to shoot me? You’re crazy if you think that.”

“And I think you know the names of the savages trying to take over.”

“How would I know that?”

“Because you’re government. And government supports the little savages.”

Peter was sweating lightly. He stared at the rifle. “I don’t have to stand here and be threatened by you, Tom James.”

Tom lowered his aim slightly, fired his weapon, removing the top part of the fat man’s shoulder, the retort loud as it echoed throughout the hall. Peter Brown fell to one knee, grabbed his bloody shoulder cursing and swearing at Tom.

Tom James walked up to him, pressed the end of the barrel against his forehead. “I want the names. Don’t lie to me or I’ll finish you off right now.”

“You’re insane.”

Tom quickly levered another round into the chamber of his rifle. “The names, Pillsbury.”

“I don’t know the names.”

Tom took the butt end of the rifle and slammed it into the face of Peter Brown hitting him squarely on the jaw knocking him unconscious. He looked at everyone in the room. Their eyes wide. “Anyone else want to surrender to the savages?”

They all shook their heads in the negative. Rita decided she liked this man.

“Good.” He looked at Rita. A quick smile crossed his face. Looked at another man. “When this sack of shit wakes up, I’ll get those names. And the number of cops in Assiniboia.”

The man nodded. “I heard them Allah kids are having another meeting at the civic center tomorrow night. They’re planning a midnight march through town. The older people are terrified of these thugs.”

“I know. Its all coming together. They’re in for a surprise tomorrow night. Not just in Assiniboia either.”

Rita blurted out the words. “I’d like to go.”

He smiled. Studied her face for a few seconds. “Alright. I’ll pick you up tomorrow sometime. This ain’t no game.”

Rita looked at him. “I know it isn’t.”

He looked at her for a few more seconds, smiled, glanced down at Peter Brown now regaining consciousness, a look of fear coming to his face. Tom James ordered everyone out of the hall except for one other person. As Rita walked back in to Karen’s yard she heard the gunshot from inside the community hall. At least she assumed the shot came from there. Probably.

She walked into the house, stripped naked and walked into the shower. Stood still letting the hot water clean her body and calm her nerves. Rita had her blood up. She equated what was happening to a game of poker. Usually when someone bet with aggression they had a weak hand. She believed if they killed a few of the savages the rest would think twice about dressing in black and chanting death to the Jews. Hell, most of those idiot kids had probably never even met a Jew.

After her shower she sat naked on the darkened porch sipping a beer, the evening still hot as hell. She doubted anyone walking by could see her in the darkness. She thought about Tom James. She liked real men. She hoped Bill would be a part of this too. She liked Bill and he had the serious weapons.

A half hour later Karen walked onto the deck. She looked at her naked sister. “Rita. You can’t sit naked out here.”

“No one can see me. Its hot.”

“Any more beer left?”

“I think there’s still two in the fridge.”

Karen walked into the house, soon returned with the last two bottles, handed one to her naked sister. “What happened at the meeting?”

“I’m not sure. I think there’s one less person living in St. Victor now.”

“Who?”

“Peter Brown.”

“Peter?”

“He wanted us all to surrender. Agree with the government. A man called Tom James didn’t share his opinion.”

“Tom killed Peter?”

Rita nodded. “I think so. I wonder if he got the information he wanted?”

“What information?”

“I’m going into Assiniboia tomorrow night. I’m not sure what’s going to happen there.”

Karen just looked at her. “Peter’s wife will freak out, I think.”

“He had a wife?”

Karen thought for a moment. “Well, maybe she won’t be freaked after all. He treated her like dirt. She’s better off without him. Still, it will come as a shock I’m sure.”

Rita sipped her beer. “Is Tom James married?”

“He was. His wife left him a few months ago I think. He was pretty devastated.”

“Why did she leave?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know him well. He’s involved with others in some militia or something. That’s all I know.”

“So he’s single.”

“You like him?” asked Karen.

“I don’t know yet. At least he acts like a man.”

“He has a little cabin just outside St. Victor. Back in the hills. I’m surprised he’s even interested in this fight.”

“There’s no choice now. Like it or not, the fight has come.”

“Yes, I know.”

Rita changed the subject. “Remember when we used to skinny dip down at the river back home?”

Karen laughed. “Yes. I was the shy one, naturally.”

“I know you were. I never understood why though. You’re gorgeous.”

“Remember little Jimmy from down the way. He watched us from behind a tree.”

Rita laughed out loud. “I knew he was there. I didn’t care. He got a lesson in female anatomy that day.”

“I’ll say.” Karen had a drink of beer. “He always smiled at me after that day.”

“I miss those days. Everything was so innocent and free. We laughed so much. Laughed at everything.”

“What are you and Tom James doing tomorrow night?”

“Fight I guess.”

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “Nope. I’m not kidding.”

“Well don’t you get killed. You’re all the family I have left.”

“I won’t. I’m lucky, remember.”

“I don’t know.”

“If we just stay here and wait they will eventually find a way to win.”

“I heard an Imam was coming to Assiniboia with a few of his buddies tomorrow.”

“What’s that?” asked Rita.

“A muzzie leader. Another savage. I guess he’s coming to rally the useful idiots.”

“Good. Let him come.”

“I don’t know. Some of those Middle Eastern guys are good at killing. They should be, they do enough of it.”

“Then we just have to be better, that’s all.”

“When did you get so tough?”

Rita thought for a moment. “I’m not tough, but when I saw the signs about killing Jews something happened to me. I got angry. I’m still angry. Angrier than I’ve ever been.”

“Daddy was a Jew. Wonder what he would think of all this?”

“Same as us, I guess. Mom too.”

“I miss them both so much.”

“So do I.”

Rita was awake early after a restless night of crazy dreams and tossing about in a strange bed. Dreams of scary violent people chasing her on her motorcycle, yelling, calling her Jew bitch, telling her they were going to kill Jew bitches like her. Dark streets with torches burning, people in black chanting loudly, threatening people, some shooting guns in the air as they screamed kill the Jews, kill ‘em all. Allah is great.

She awoke in a sweat, crawled from bed, walked quietly downstairs and made coffee then sat on the deck drinking it, the July day already heating up and it was just past six o’clock. It was going to be another scorching hot day. She thought about Tom James and the meeting later. She supposed he would be stopping by sometime this morning. She listened to the doves cooing, the other birds chirping, a dog barking. Thought about tonight, about her dreams, the world in general. A world she didn’t recognize anymore. A chill passed through her body.

A man walked on the sidewalk in front of the house, looked at her, smiled and walked toward her. “Hi Rita. You’re up early.”

“Hi Bill. Where are you going?”

He shook his head, shrugged his shoulders. “Just walkin’. I don’t sleep much. Never have.”

“Want a coffee?”

He shook his head again, walked onto the deck. “I’m okay, I had one a while ago.”

Rita looked at his cowboy boots and jeans, his blue shirt, blue eyes and graying hair, kind face. “You missed the meeting last night.”

“Tom stopped by last night. Told me everything. I’ll be there tonight.” He sat on an empty wicker chair. “Shame about Peter.”

“Is he dead?”

Bill nodded. “Dead as they come. Never liked the man myself, but I feel bad for his wife Ophelia. She’s a good woman.”

“Does she know?”

“Tom and I took the body to her house last night. No small job either. She didn’t say nothin’. Just looked at him. I guess we’ll bury him today or tomorrow. When ever she wants.”

“Did Tom James get any names?”

“One. The leader. One of the leaders. The crazy bugger went to Assiniboia last night, broke into the guy’s house and killed him in his bed. Killed him with his hunting knife.”

“Were you with him?”

“I drove. The muzzies have a barricade at the entrance to town now. I know another way in though.”

“How did things go so wrong in this country?”

“They don’t call it creeping Sharia for nothing. It started slow, like a lot of things, I guess. Once the government began allowing these savages from the Middle East into the country, things just kept getting worse, but the media always covered it up. The media’s as bad as the muzzies. Oh hell, I guess people like me are to blame too. I saw this coming, even told people, but no one wanted to hear bad news. Most people have their heads shoved so far up their ass anyway.” He half smiled. “Its all changed now.”

“Can we win?”

“Sure. We can win. If enough people pull their heads from their asses. Did you know the government is now telling women how to dress in public? Among other things.”

“How?”

“Long black dresses with head scarves.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I believe I am, Rita. Maybe that will begin to wake people up. Maybe not. I just can’t figure people sometimes. This country hasn’t produced a damn thing except cowards in the last fifty years. We’ve had it too easy. Course that’s about to change.”

“What about the Army? Are they going along with this?”

“Some. Some not. Hopefully more not. Hard to get the truth about things. Politicians of all stripes, cops. They’re not our friends. Probably never were. A militia is being put together. Some did see it coming.”

Rita shook her head, listened to a dove noisy in the branches that hung like an umbrella across the street. The leaves green, moving in the light breeze. “I’ll never wear one of those things.”

Bill stood to his feet and smiled. “No ma’am. I don’t guess you will.”

“When are we going to Assiniboia?”

“Tom will be around this evening sometime. I think he’s going to try and round up some help. Militia guys. Guys that’ll fight for freedom. He knows lots of farmers and ranchers. All part of the new militia.”

Rita heard her sister inside the house, watched Bill leave the yard and continue his morning walk. After a couple minutes Karen walked onto the deck holding a mug of hot coffee.

“You’re up early.”

“I had bad dreams.”

“You still have bad dreams?” asked Karen.

“Once in a while.”

“Was that Bill here?”

She nodded. “He’s just walking around. Probably thinking about tonight.”

“You still going?”

“Yes.”

“Think you can shoot those kids?”

“They’re not kids anymore. Wonder how many people they’ve already killed in Assiniboia?”

“None I hope.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” said Rita.

“Yeah. Damn. I hate talking about this stuff on such a beautiful morning.”

Tom James swung by just after six in the evening. He pulled his truck up close to the curb in front of the house. Rita was sitting on the porch dressed in black, a black ball cap with the numbers 1602 stitched in green on the front. She picked up her bolt action .308 rifle, a small canvas bag and walked off the porch and hopped inside the pickup.

She looked at a darkly dressed Tom James. “So now it starts?”

He nodded. “Yes ma’am.” He made a U-turn and headed out of St. Victor, stopping to wait while the school bus was moved off the road allowing them to pass.

Rita waved at Karen as they passed the guards, Karen had a worried look on her face. Rita looked at Tom. “We’re not the only two are we?”

He shook his head, kept watching the road. “No. Some other guys want to help out. We’re going to surprise them on the street when they march. Hopefully that head muzzie who came to town will be with them too.”

They didn’t speak again until Tom turned off the pavement and onto a gravel side road. He glanced at her slender frame, her face. The most beautiful face he had ever been this close too, he thought. “We have to go in the back way now. Bastards have the road blockaded.”

The truck entered Assiniboia, the streets deserted mostly except for the odd person walking. In a few minutes he parked in a back alley downtown. The pair left the truck with their weapons in hand and walked to a door. The door opened slowly.

“Hey Denny.”

“Hi Tom.” He looked at Rita, then back at Tom. “The roof’s ready.”

“This is Rita.”

“Hi Rita. They call me Denny.”

Rita smiled at the man, followed him and Tom into the building and up a flight of stairs. They were soon on the roof. There were several long guns already waiting. Loaded and ready to shoot. She walked to the edge, stayed low behind a barrier, looked down at the four way intersection on the middle of Main Street. She only saw three vehicles moving. A few parked cars.

Tom crouched next to her. “There will be guys on the roofs of those three buildings. They may already be there.” He pointed to the three other buildings that stood at the corners of the intersection.

Rita looked at the flat roofs. “So we wait for a few hours.”

He nodded. “Denny’s wife is making us all something to eat.”

Rita sat with her back against the short wall that hid them. Watched Tom remove four grenades from his bag. He lined them up, ready to throw down on the marchers. In a few minutes Denny was back with a basket of hot food.

Rita felt someone nudging her. She awoke from a dream. Unsure of where she was. Slowly recognized Tom’s smiling face.

“They’re coming.”

Rita looked up the darkened Main Street. It was full of men in black carrying torches and signs, some with rifles held above their heads. Their loud voices reaching her ears. They looked like noisy zombies chanting, like ghouls searching for something living to eat. A chill ran through her. It almost looked like her dream last night.

Tom said. “Wait for the first explosion, then open up with your rifle.”

Rita nodded, rubbed her eyes and grabbed her gun. She removed her pistol and kept it close. In a couple of minutes the police car entered the intersection, its lights flashing blue and red. The hidden men on roof tops waited for it to pass through. Waited until the noisy mob was close to the intersection.

“I know half those kids, Tom.”

“They ain’t kids no more, Denny.”

Suddenly a loud explosion erupted on the street below. The lead police car was a ball of fire, the two officers burning inside from the blast of Bill’s bazooka. Smoke filled the air. Gun fire started from the three other roof tops. The sound a flat pop pop pop. Rita watched Tom throw a grenade onto the confused street below. Heard the screams. She fired her rifle at the first black target she saw. Watched the marcher collapse from her bullet. She reloaded another bullet into the chamber. Pushed down the bolt hard. Another explosion rocked the buildings as the second police cruiser went up in flames. The street now littered with glass, bodies, grenades like balls of lethal fire rained down on the black dressed marchers. The air was awash with gun powder and smoke, the smell filled her nostrils. She continued to shoot until her rifle was empty.

The cratered street was on fire now, people in black running, trying to escape the hail of bullets and shrapnel directed at them, their signs falling from their hands. They tried to escape back up Main Street or along Third Avenue, but their paths were blocked with trucks. Men with automatic rifles mowed them down as they fled. Bodies littered the streets, blood smeared the pavement. Ran like thin dark streams. Rita didn’t know how long they had been shooting. It seemed like an eternity. She knew she had killed some of the marchers. Finally the street grew quiet except for the cries of the wounded.

Tom had fire in his eyes. He looked at her. “You hit?”

Rita was in a daze. She shook her head.

He looked at Denny. “You hit?”

“I ain’t hit, Tom.”

“I think a few might have got away. We’ll get them later.”

“Damn, Tom. We must have killed a hundred or more.”

“I didn’t ask for this. They chose their side.” He stood to his feet. “Let’s go down now.”

When they reached the ground, Rita looked at Tom. “I don’t want to look. I’ll sit in the truck and wait for you.”

He studied her face, smiled a little. “Take a drink. There’s a bottle in the glove box. You did good, Rita. Better than good.”

Rita said nothing, just watched him walk around the corner toward Main Street. She sat in the truck and opened the glove box. She heard sporadic gunfire, guessed they were killing the wounded lying on the street. She took a deep drink of whiskey, it burned her lips and throat. Tears ran down her face, though she didn’t feel them. She didn’t feel much of anything now. She was numb. Completely numb. After a time, she wasn’t sure how long, Tom James climbed into the truck beside her.

“You okay, Rita?”

She looked at him, wiped her face. “Yes. I’m okay. What now?”

“Now I take you home.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to come back and visit the Mayor.”

She knew what he meant. She asked. “Did we get that head Muslim?”

He nodded. “He ain’t a Muslim no more.”

Rita took a drink from the bottle, wiped her face again. “What about more police coming?”

Tom accepted the bottle, took a long drink. “There may be a few. Most are very busy in the cities right now. We’re not the only ones fighting tonight. There’s militia watching for police or anyone else. There’s no turning back. We either win or we die probably.”

Rita just looked at him, watched him move the truck. Win or die. She felt like maybe a piece of herself had died tonight on that bloody street. When they arrived back at Karen’s house after a silent ride Rita walked onto the porch, turned and watched Tom drive away and back toward Assiniboia. She dropped her guns on a chair and stripped naked. Slumped to the wooden deck and began to sob loudly. She felt her sister walk her into the house and put her to bed. Karen stayed with her until she was asleep.