The Eye of Madness by John D; Mimms Read Free Book Online Page A

sorry to report that our meeting did not go well,” the general said in a matter of fact tone. “But I am sure you all see why change is a bad idea. I have been chosen to lead and I will do it,” he said brushing his hands together as if eager to begin a challenging task. He then walked past everyone to the corridor beyond. He paused and turned before rounding the corner.
    â€œOh … please take care of the captain,” he said flippantly. “He was a good man, but he just could not understand. I’m going to go check on my granddaughter, Steff,” he said, and then waved as if he was leaving on a trip.
    Everyone felt hollow and numb, but the general’s final words sent a chill through them all. Most people would have checked on their child or grandchild immediately in a situation such as this. Of course, General Garrison wasn’t most people. He was acting as the hand of God, everything, and everyone else, be damned.

CHAPTER 6
    PRIVATE ABERNATHY
    â€œA human life is a story told by God.”
    ~Hans Christian Andersen
    Private Jack Abernathy managed to avoid latrine duty, but his partner was not so fortunate. Jack received permission to return to his flat and pick up a few personal belongings before nightfall. He was sure he would get an earful when he returned, considering the spiteful stare he received from Sean. By the time he returned in a few hours, the work would be done.
    The road leading into town was choked with the dispossessed as hundreds, if not thousands, made their way to the base. The barracks would be full soon, leaving only the parade grounds and a handful of open areas for the remaining refugees to settle. People from all walks of life and socioeconomic classes trudged along on foot with a common purpose, to escape the dark.
    Jack watched in disbelief as the civilians passed. Some dragged boxes with rope or their bare hands. Others pushed wheelbarrows or pulled carts overloaded with personal possessions. Several people toted stuffed backpacks, while others clutched their belongings in their arms. He at first thought it odd that these people were walking to the base, especially the ones with heavy loads. However, when he got a short distance up the road he understood. A military blockade was set up forcing anyone in an auto or other motorized vehicle to pull over and leave them. Space was a premium in the base and automobiles would crowd out people. A large pasture served as a makeshift parking lot. The field across the road was littered by what seemed to be a number of blankets or perhaps rolled rugs. When Jack drew even with the field, he could see it was not abandoned possessions. This pasture had become a makeshift morgue. A toe, an arm, wisps of hair could be seen protruding from under some of the sheets. A few of the lighter colored linens were spotted with stains of blood. Jack stopped and stared at the grotesque menagerie.
    â€œBloody sad, isn’t it?” one of the blockade guards said.
    Jack jumped as if received a shock. “What?” he stammered.
    â€œSorry mate, didn’t mean to scare you. It is enough to make the best of us squeamish,” the guard said with a shudder as he waved a small convertible into the parking lot.
    â€œWhat happened?” Jack asked. “There must be hundreds of them!”
    â€œLast night happened,” he said. “When we reached four hundred, I stopped counting.”
    â€œAll of them from town?”
    â€œI don’t know, it has been a damn fight all day … people insisting on taking their loved one on to the base with them.”
    â€œFight?” Jack asked.
    The guard raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you fight if someone told you to leave your child or parent’s body behind?”
    Jack shrugged, then without another word he continued his journey. He had to hurry; it would be dark in a few hours.
    The road was luckily free of shade. Cattle grazing land bordered both sides and