Call Me Martin

The last traces of burning rubber teased Ari’s nostrils as he reached out to touch the back of the barn. It was solid oak. Ari took a deep breath, the odor of wood and grass filling his lungs. The rest of the group joined him.

Ari turned to Martin.

“I hope this isn’t a trap, like maybe they’re waiting for us.”

Martin put his ear to a board.

“No one is there. Not now.”

“Okay,” Ari said. “Careful, everyone. These townies are not above setting booby traps.”

Ari led the group around to the front of the barn. The door was open, like a dark gaping mouth. The gravel road in front was a pale blur, barely visible in the star light. A sliver of moon appeared above the tree line but was little help.

“Maybe we should run back towards the highway and flag someone down,” Sherman suggested.

“Good luck,” Rebecca said, her voice hoarse. “The highway is a good 30 miles away. On foot, we won’t even reach it until mid-morning tomorrow. And then what? We wait for a truck or some other lost soul?”

“I feel you,” Sherman said. “I’m for heading into those people’s town and hot wiring a pick up, then driving out of here.”

Ari nodded.

“That’s not a bad idea. But let’s first make us some really bad-ass weapons. Hand me the flashlight, Sherman.”

Ari took the flashlight from Sherman and shined it inside the barn.

“What the hell is this?”

About 10 fence posts were planted in a crude circle. Each post was anchored several feet from the walls of the barn.

“They must be some kind of cult,” Sherman said.

“I don’t care what they are,” Ari retorted.

“Can we take this shit off?” Sherman asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” Ari said, removing his own insulation and walking over to help Sherman. Everyone else shed their insulation. Tiny slivers of the material floated in the air before sinking to the ground.

Ari played the flashlight beam up to the rafters and down the walls. He hurried over to the nearest post and pulled. It was firmly implanted. No matter how hard he pulled, the fence post would not budge. He put his all weight against it, but it was glued in place.

“Fuck!” Ari hissed and quickly moved onto the next and the next and the next until he stood panting.

The rest of the group slowly made their way into the barn. Something about being outside in the night was terrifying.

Ari shone the flashlight up to the roof, providing just the slightest hint of light. He looked from Rebecca to Martin.

“I’m going to need your help.”

Rebecca set her bow and arrow down and walked over to Ari. Martin turned to little Amber who had been holding his hand all the way from the inn.

“I’m just going to help Ari out. You stay right here, okay?”

Amber nodded, looking up towards the entrance of the barn.

Ari, Rebecca and Martin braced themselves before grabbing hold of the fence post.

“On the count of three,” Ari said. “One, two, three.”

The fence post lifted slowly out of the ground, dragging dirt and wood shavings. Ari stepped back, surprised that he and the others had been able to lift a fence post that was partially filled with concrete.

“Damn,” Ari said, wiping his forehead. “Didn’t think that would work.” He looked from Rebecca to Martin. “At least one of you is a hell of a lot stronger than me.”

Rebecca made a muscle.

“300 push-ups per day, baby.”

Ari nodded and dropped to his knees. He opened the gym bag and pulled out the hammer and screw driver and slowly examined the concrete inside the fence post.

“What are you gonna do?” Sherman asked, bending down to pick up the flashlight.

“I’m going to try to make a long, narrow hole without splitting the cement and you’re going to hold that flashlight so I can see what the hell I’m doing.”

“Go for it,” Sherman said.

“Too bad we didn’t have a drill,” Rebecca said.

“Too bad we don’t have a Stinger Missile,” Ari said, hammering the screw driver in slow, measured blows.

“Why are you doing this?” Sherman asked.

“So I can slide a rope through the hole and make a fuse.”

Sherman squatted down next to Ari.

“You’re gonna make a cannon?”

“Something like that.” Ari smacked the screwdriver again and felt empty air. “Bingo.” He looked up at Rebecca. “Now for the fun part. Hand me the fertilizer mix, please.”

Rebecca knelt down to dig into the gym bag and handed Ari a paper bag. He grabbed it and scooped up handfuls of cold, moist fertilizer mix and stuffed it into the pipe. He took the flat end of one of Rebecca’s pool sticks and shoved it inside the post.

“The tighter we pack this, the better.” Ari grabbed another bag full of shrapnel and dropped it into the post. He looked up at Sherman, Martin and Ari. “The fuse is soaked with kerosene. The second I light it, boom! I’m going to need two of you to hold the post. I hope you brought ear plugs.”

“Cotton,” Rebecca said.

“Better than nothing,” Ari remarked, struggling to hoist the makeshift cannon. He looked at Martin. “I could use some help. Between the concrete and everything else, this weighs a ton.”

Martin grabbed onto the far end of the cannon and held it.

“Works for me,” Ari said and guided the cannon carefully to the ground. “Easy, we have a volatile mixture in there. We don’t want any sparks.”

“Man, you’re good,” Sherman said, patting Ari on the shoulder with his good hand.

“Not at all,” Ari countered. “I just want to survive.”

“Amen,” Sherman said.

Ari looked towards the other fence posts that were embedded in the dirt. He turned to Martin and Rebecca.

“The good news is we have a homemade rocket launcher. The bad news is that we need to make at least three more.” Ari wiped his forehead and motioned to the nearest post. He turned to Martin and Rebecca. “Ready?”

Just as Sherman aimed the flashlight at the post, Martin suddenly jerked his head up and looked towards the entrance to the barn. The night sky was visible above the tree line.

“What is it?” Rebecca asked.

“Shh,” Martin said, putting his gloved finger to his mouth.

Just then, the entire barn was paved with light. Everyone except Martin shielded their eyes.

“Sooner or later,” a familiar voice called out. “At least one member of a group ends up here, despite being warned that they would be shot on sight.”

Ari uncovered his eyes just as Rebecca dropped to her knees and hoisted her bow and arrow.

The town Sheriff stood in the doorway, aiming a .44 Magnum directly at her.

“I should have said, ‘Freeze’.” The Sheriff paused and looked at Rebecca. “Hello, Officer Kimmel. I certainly did’t expect to see you here.” He looked from Ari to Martin and over to Sherman. “And it looks like you bonded with this group.” The Sheriff carefully stepped forward into the barn. “Now I will say it, ’FREEZE!”

Little Amber, who was closest to the front door, stood at attention, her big brown eyes looking straight ahead.

“Freeze, your ass,” Rebeca said, rising to one knee and aiming the long, sharpened pool stick directly at the Sheriff’s chest.

“Now, what are you going to do with that toy, Officer Kimmel?”

“Ever heard of a dead man’s switch?” Rebecca asked, closing one eye.

The Sheriff grinned.

“My deputies will be here in a second.”

“They’re not here, now,” Rebecca said. “And if you shoot me, my finger will release this homemade arrow right through your chest. It will split your ribcage and impale you.”

The Sheriff’s smile faded. He glanced at the toppled fence post.

“What do you guys have there?”

Ari motioned to Martin and the two slowly lifted the rocket launcher. Ari looked the Sheriff in the eye.

“This is a home-made rocket launcher, complete with a fuse, shrapnel and a lethal mix of ammonium nitrate-based fertilizer and turpentine.”

The Sheriff nodded.

“If I were you, I would put it down right now, before my boys get here or else they’re going to take you out the second they see you.”

Ari glanced at Martin.

“Sorry, Sheriff Taylor, but we’re going to keep this right where it is, in our arms and at least three feet off the ground. You might warn Barney Fife not to shoot because, like Officer Kimmel said, we have a ‘dead man’s switch’ too.”

The sheriff smirked.

“How’s that?”

“We drop this cannon on the ground and it will explode, destroying this entire barn and everything in it. The fireball might even catch the attention of the authorities who will fly in here and end your little game.” Ari grimaced. “My arms are getting tired.”

The Sheriff backed up and looked from Ari to Rebecca and back.

“You guys don’t give up.”

Ari nodded.

“My grandfather was a concentration camp survivor. You don’t give up until you take your last breath. And rather than become a midnight snack for your ‘friends’, I would opt to die on my own terms.”

“Ditto,” Rebecca said.

The Sheriff chuckled.

“I guess this is what we call a stand-off.”

Just then, a rumble of engines shook the barn. A glare of red and blue strobe lights illuminated the gravel road in front of the barn.

The Sheriff grinned as car doors creaked open and heavy footfalls sounded just outside the barn.

“Looks like the cavalry has arrived.” The Sheriff paused to look at Rebecca and Ari. “And you must be the Indians.”

“And you must be General Custer,” Rebecca quipped.

“Tell your men to stand down,” Ari said.

“Or WHAT?” The Sheriff said, his red crew cut shining under a harsh overhead light. He looked at Ari and Martin. “You’re outgunned, and I truly doubt you’re going to kill yourselves.” The Sheriff motioned to his men. “Pediss, Groner, McNeil, get behind the posts.” The Sheriff looked at a tall, lanky deputy who stood in the doorway. “Make your mind up, Harley. Behind the posts, as we always do, or skedaddle.”

The tall, lanky deputy slowly moved behind one of the fence posts.

“What’s that all about?” Ari asked, his shoulder’s aching form the weight of the cannon.

“Delineates who is prey and who is not,” The Sheriff answered.

Ari glanced at Rebecca. Except for Little Amber, everyone else was in front of the posts.

The Sheriff followed Ari’s gaze and nodded.

“Hey, little girl.”

Amber was still standing at attention. She looked at the Sheriff.

“Me?”

The Sheriff laughed.

“Yeah, I don’t see any other little girls here, unless you count Harley who is scared of his own shadow. Why don’t you step in front of the post?”

“NO!” Rebecca said.

The Sheriff motioned for one of his deputies to come behind her. He pointed at Rebecca.

“Put your toy down, bitch. Or I’ll let my boys have their way with you, right here, in front of everyone.”

Rebecca nodded and lowered her bow and arrow.

“That’s better,” the Sheriff said and motioned for little Amber to step forward.

“Leave her alone!” Rebecca said, her eyes blazing. “She’s just a child.”

Little Amber stepped forward and looked at Rebecca.

“Don’t worry, Miss Rebecca. I’m okay.”

One of the deputies aimed a high-powered rifle at Ari.

“Sir, give the word and I’ll take this guy out.”

Ari’s blood ran cold. His heart thudded in his chest as he motioned for Martin to hold the fence post. He carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette lighter. He looked in the Sheriff’s direction.

“Remember, what I said. This is a volatile combo, here. This barn and probably a good part of your town will be ashes if this hits the ground; something to think about.”

The Sheriff turned to his deputy.

“You heard the man, McNeil.”

“He’s bluffing,” the Deputy retorted. “Probably has nothing packed in their but dog shit.”

The Sheriff looked at the fence post now being held by Martin and squinted.

“That’s a fuse if I’ve ever seen one. McNeil, lower your rifle. We just have to stand where we are for about another 10 minutes and things will take care of themselves.”