Darkness upon the Land

Reuben actually swore as he thrust the rifle to Percy and sprinted back toward the corner of the house. He heard Liana bark at Percy to watch the prisoner, but the shooting stopped by the time he rounded the building.

The scene prompted him to slow his speed to a rapid walk. Mitch was standing with the confiscated military rifle gripped in his white-knuckled hands, the barrel pointed slightly skyward. Doreen was gripping his right arm as she stood against her husband and sobbed slightly. His .223 was nearby them, again on the ground. Gunner lay in a crumpled mound just in front of them.

Reuben had a good idea what had transpired, but still asked as he approached, “What happened?”

The man only stared at the fallen thug before him. Doreen continued to whimper.

“Mitch! What happened?”

He jerked slightly, but his gaze never shifted as he responded with a distant, pensive tone. “He went for Doreen.” Mitch was quiet again for enough seconds that Reuben almost told him to continue. “I just pulled the trigger once, and the thing kept shooting. The gun bounced around and kept shooting, and … this.”

Even if Gunner wasn’t dead already, he figured the gangster soon would be. Although he completely understood Mitch’s shock at having killed somebody, he realized again how pragmatic he was with his own extreme resistance this morning. Only his recognition of Slim had immediately plucked at his conscience.

Dear Lord, killing was becoming too familiar to him.

Reuben reached for the rifle. “Take Doreen inside,” he stated calmly as he grasped the weapon. “I can take it from here.”

Mitch actually seemed unable to release his grip for a couple of seconds, but then he shuddered and let go. Both of them staggered a little as they headed toward the back porch of the house.

Reuben also grabbed his own rifle and strode back to the front yard. Liana and the prisoner seemed engaged in a stare-off, and Percy probably was unaware he had the rifle aimed at Curly’s crotch. Unsure of how much longer the woman would be able to rally herself, he was eager to get her back inside.

“We’ve got one less worry,” he announced upon his approach. “Mitch accidentally gunned down our other prisoner when he tried to attack Doreen.”

“Are they all right?” Her attention remained focused on Curly.

“They’re both shaken up, is all. Why don’t you take my rifle up to the house and be sure the barrel’s clear?”

As she left, he reloaded the other rifle and had Percy assist him taking Curly to the barn. After tying the prisoner in the stall that was still free, he left Percy to stand guard in front of the house. When he got to the back porch, Reuben lingered for a minute as he finally allowed a reality he’d rather not face to settle in.

A few moments ago, when adrenaline was coursing through his veins, he’d had no qualms promising new experiences in pain if the ruffian refused to cooperate. Now that he was settling down and not feeling quite so malicious, the certainty of his need to keep that promise began to weigh heavily. They needed information, and they needed it quickly. The lives of every single one of them could be on the line.

On the one hand, it seemed killing was a worse act to perpetrate than torture. After all, a person died in the first scenario but could live through the second. But the prohibition against eating flesh torn from a live animal – eiver min ha’ĥai – was more than an expression of God’s concern for the welfare of beasts. The broader concept of avoiding unnecessary cruelty to animals implied it was much worse to poorly treat one’s fellow humans.

A kill should be made cleanly and swiftly. Torture was drawn out and its whole purpose was to promote suffering. His only justification was reliance on the word “necessary.” He needed to know what was going on in Esperanza in order to help protect these people.

And then there was the matter of Slim. The bodies of the three fallen attackers needed to be hauled out to the back of beyond in the swamp, but what if Slim were still technically alive? The only resources they had to “make him comfortable” until he passed was a dry, comfortable place to lie. Since he could haul off only one body at a time, he hoped to discover Slim had died quickly enough to minimize any suffering.

He finally entered the house and discovered a variety of activities taking place. Darius, his upper left arm wrapped in bandaging, was sprawled on the couch and moaning about the pain. Larissa was hovering about him and complaining how nobody was doing enough to help. Carlo was arguing with her. Mitch and Doreen were holed up with their kids in Alexia’s old bedroom. Liana was cleaning up her medical supplies in the kitchen and Alexia was helping her before going back out to the barn to finish chores.

Reuben stepped into the living room and addressed Larissa. “We need you to stand guard over the prisoner.”

“Why me?” she snapped.

“Because I’m the one who can haul off the bodies without getting lost and Carlo is the one who needs to help me load them and Mitch is the one who needs to back up Percy to be sure no more of those invaders show up and Doreen is the one who needs to take care of her kids while Liana is the one who can best tend to Darius. Also this guy is probably the one who shot Darius, so I figure it serves him right to be stuck with you.”

She grimaced and took Reuben’s rifle out to the barn.

It was after ten o’clock when he finally returned from that grisly duty, with his only solace being that Slim appeared dead. He’d also had Liana take a look at the body he pulled from the swamp, and she confirmed the elusive “Brent Rayburn” was not among them. He told Mitch to take over guard duty from Percy and then headed to the barn to relieve Larissa. The event he had been dreading could no longer be avoided.

Alexia caught him in the back yard. “You haven’t eaten anything today.”

Reuben realized he had no appetite. After dumping three bodies and preparing to torture another person, food had no appeal to him.

“Don’t have time,” he muttered.

“You can’t do this to yourself.” She stepped in front of him. “With everything you’ve done this morning you’ve already burned through a day’s worth of calories. You’re the strongest one here, Rube. We need to keep you that way.”

Naturally she’d be the one fixated on food. “There’s one more thing I need to do, and then I’ll see about eating.”

“I can fry some eggs real quick and bring them out to you.”

“I don’t know if that’s –”

“Eating yummy-smelling eggs in front of the prisoner might weaken his stubbornness.”

He finally directed his whole attention to her. He had to credit her for that idea, although he suspected it wouldn’t preserve him from carrying out the unpleasant task ahead.

“I doubt he’s starving,” Reuben replied. “But he might be hungry. It just wouldn’t be very assertive of me to throw up on him later.”

She frowned. “Why would you throw up?”

He regarded her very solemnly. “We don’t have time to wait for him to weaken on his own. I have to speed up the process. I have to find out what we might be up against now.”

Alexia seemed to study his face. “What do you mean, speed up the process?”

He sighed before replying. “I have to.” And she didn’t try to stop him again as he went to the barn.