The Reversion Read online

  Christian nodded at Mike. "Mike is a paramedic. Let him take a look at your face and any other injuries you all have, then we need to talk."

  Mike slung his rifle and did a quick examination of Bill's face and Ann's neck. Neither required any treatment, though both had some swelling and the start of some bruises. Tracy had disappeared inside the Suburban and re-emerged wearing a blue University of Kansas sweatshirt, replacing her torn blouse. She had some scratches on her back and throat, which Mike cleaned and put antibiotic cream on.

  After being satisfied that none of the family was seriously injured, Christian looked at each of them, then spoke to Bill. "We have to decide what we're going to do with them."

  Ann spoke up. "Shouldn't we just hand them over to the police?"

  "I wish we could," said Christian. "The problem is that we don't know where the police are, or even if there are any police anymore.”

  "What do you mean?" asked Bill.

  "Since Mike and I started walking the day before yesterday, we've passed several abandoned police cars. No sign of anyone. The shotguns were taken out, but otherwise they were just locked up sitting there."

  "Surely there's a police station we can take them to."

  Christian shook his head. "You were on the highway when your car shut down, so other than yourself and the few cars around you, you don't know the extent of it. We came from a hospital in Leavenworth. That's about thirty miles from here. Everything shut down, and I mean everything. Even the police substation across the street. No electricity anywhere. No radio communication. All vehicles stopped. And come to think of it, I haven't noticed any planes flying." He wondered how to express what he thought had happened.

  "EMP", said Ann, as if reading his mind.

  Christian looked at her. "You know about that?”

  "Mom's an electrical engineer," said Tracy. "She's been warning us about this for years." She looked her mom apologetically. "I'm afraid we didn't pay much attention."

  "A coronal mass ejection, a CME, was a virtual certainty," said Ann. "But from what we're seeing, cars not running, radio communications still off, I'd say we have a nuclear induced EMP."

  Christian looked at her with new respect. Ann looked like she would be most comfortable baking cookies or organizing a charity event, but there was obviously a lot more to her than that. He nodded. "That's what I've been thinking. We can assume that it's wide spread, but we don't know how wide spread or whether we are in the middle of it or on the edge of it - or which edge. Would you agree with that?"

  "One hundred percent," replied Ann. "There's no way to know at this point, at least until we make contact with an unaffected area.”

  Christian nodded again. "That's what I mean. What happens to these three depends entirely on what we do with them."

  He looked at each member of the family individually, then continued. "We can't take them with us. They would slow us down and we don't have the resources to properly guard, feed and otherwise care for them. And they would remain a constant danger to us. We can't just let them go, because we know they would be a danger to anyone else who came into contact with them. Essentially, we would be responsible for any harm that came to those people, and from what we've seen from them that harm could be great."

  "Couldn't we just leave them here tied up?" asked Tracy.

  Christian shook his head. He saw that Bill was about to say something, but he wanted to make their choices clear before opening it up for discussion. "No. If we did that someone might come along and untie them, not realizing who or what they are, and that person might get hurt or worse. It would be like leaving a booby trap behind. And if no one found them they would die of dehydration in a few days. We would essentially have tortured them to death. And finally, I don't feel we can morally kill them, since they didn't kill anyone here. That's what we have to discuss. You were the victims here, so you need to be involved in making the decision."

  Everyone was silent for a few moments. Ann and Tracy were both looking at Bill, who was looking at the three on the ground. After another moment, Bill looked at Christian. "You've described the quandary very well, young man. I'm a lawyer. In fact, I've been a judge for the past fifteen years. The question of just punishment for criminal actions is one that has been asked for thousands of years. The answers to that question have been many and varied."

  He looked back at the three thugs. "If what we suspect is true, we find ourselves in a time like those before functional central, or even tribal government. At that time, and even during the first evolutions of authority, retribution for wrongs was largely felt to be a personal matter. Punishment was decided and administered by the victims or their representatives."

  Bill looked around at the others, then continued. "Christian has listed the unacceptable choices. Unacceptable, at least, to us at our current understanding of civilized and humane behavior. But he has not, and I expect purposefully, suggested the solution which best satisfies the demands of justice while also serving to warn others of criminal threat." He looked at Christian. "That solution is to mark and disable them."

  Christian nodded.

  "Have you given thought to what should be done, specifically?"

  Christian nodded again. "They need to be marked in a way that brings attention to them and can't be hidden easily. And they need to be physically disabled in a way that reduces their threat to others in the future."

  He paused, looking at each of the family members in turn. He was fairly sure that Mike would understand the necessity of what he was about to propose, but questioned whether the family would. He was about to go on when Bill spoke again.

  "Historically, marking has included the removal of various body parts, including the ears and nose, as well as permanent marking of the skin such as tattooing or branding, usually on the face where it cannot be easily hidden, except by the wearing of a mask, which alerts others in itself. Disabling has included cutting the tendons of the hamstrings, castration, the breaking of bones and joints, and, more recently, limb punishment shootings, which includes kneecapping but also the shooting of elbows, wrists and ankles depending on the severity of the violation." He looked around at the group. "In answer to your unasked question, yes, I believe this is appropriate in this situation."

  "I agree," said Christian. "But I think each person should have the opportunity to either include or exclude themselves from this decision."

  Christian looked at Mike, who just nodded. Bill nodded. When he turned to Ann and Tracy, he was surprised but glad to see both of them nod yes.

  Christian looked at Bill. "Judge, in the absence of any sentencing guidelines, I'd be interested to know what your suggestion would be for punishment. "

  Bill remained quiet for several minutes while looking at the three thugs laying on the ground. Then he turned back to the others. "I've spent a few minutes thinking about what they did, and what I believe in my heart they would have done if they hadn't been stopped. I have also thought about what they may well do to others if the punishment we administer is not sufficient. But there is one more aspect I would like to consider before coming to a conclusion, and that is intent."

  He looked at his wife and daughter, his eyes welling with tears. "We know what they said before the physical assault began, but after that all I could hear was him telling me they were going to make me watch before they killed me. And I heard your screams.” His voice choked. “Did they say anything to you?"

  Ann and Tracy looked at each other, their eyes also brimming with tears, but mouths set in anger. Ann spoke. "The one who was holding me said I was next, after they were done with Tracy."

  Tracy was unable to keep her tears from spilling over any longer, but as they trailed down her cheeks her eyes showed plainly that they were tears of rage, not fear. "The one who was on me said I was a fighter, but he was going to take the fight out of me and the others could have me when he was done."

  The group looked at each other closely, then at the three on the ground. The family'
s initial shock was dissipating and giving way to a deep rage. Christian was the first to speak.

  "Judge, I think we all knew what their intentions were, but, in my opinion, this new information, the fact that they plainly told their victims what they intended to do, removes any reasonable doubt and should be taken into consideration for appropriate punishment. I withdraw my objection to execution."

  Everyone looked at Christian, no one speaking for a full minute as each internalized the full meaning of what he had said, and came to their own acceptance of it.

  Finally, Bill said quietly, "We'll carry out the sentence as soon as we're ready to go."

  It took the better part of an hour for them to go through both the Suburban and the trailer, deciding which things were the most important to take with them.

  Tracy had a backpack from school, into which she placed all her socks and underwear, some t-shirts, her toiletries, a pair of leather sandals, two sweatshirts and an extra pair of jeans. She stuffed her personal papers and a few thumb drives with pictures on them in a side pocket, along with her jewelry and a few small mementos from school. She put on a pair of low hikers, a KU ball cap and a lightweight jacket.

  With Christian and Mike's help, Bill and Ann fashioned two packs out of a couple of Tracy's heavier jackets, which they filled with their own clothes and personal items they had brought on the trip, along with the small amount of snack food they had with them and some bottled water.

  With preparations completed, Christian and Mike walked over to the three prisoners. Christian cut the line between tat's wrists and ankles and they turned all three onto their backs. A mixture of rage and fear showed in each pair of eyes as the thugs glared at their captors.

  Christian stood over them, looking each one in the eyes. "You probably heard us talking earlier. That was your trial."

  He turned back to the Garners. "If anyone wants to remove themselves from this, say so now."

  No one said anything. They just kept looking at the three on the ground. Christian drew his pistol and walked to stand over tats.

  "Wait."

  Christian turned toward the voice. It was Bill who had spoken. Christian had half expected someone to have second thoughts, but had expected it to be one of the women.

  Bill walked over to Christian and held out his hand, palm up. "It was my family they intended to rape and kill. It's my job to do this."

  Christian started to hand him his pistol but Bill shook his head. "No, the one they were going to use on us."

  Christian nodded, re-holstering his own weapon and removing the Glock he had taken from camo from his waistband. He racked the slide, ensuring there was a round in the chamber, picked up the one that had ejected off the ground and reloaded it into the magazine, then handed the gun to Bill butt first. "You know how to use this?"

  All eyes were on Bill as he accepted the pistol from Christian. "It's been a long time, but yes."

  Bill looked at the three attackers on the ground, then walked slowly over to tats and looked down at him. "You were going to rape my wife and daughter and make me watch. Now, you watch, so you can anticipate your own punishment."

  Walking to camo, Bill pointed the pistol at camo's groin. "You were going to rape my wife and my daughter. I find you guilty." The sound of the pistol was startling in the surrounding silence, but was drowned out by the screams of the would-be rapist. Blood leaked out of the holes the bullet put in his jeans, splashes being sent over the ground as he thrashed and tore against his bonds. Tats and red shirt also started bucking, trying to get away from the fate they now realized was theirs.

  Bill stepped over to red shirt, who had turned back over onto his stomach and was trying to inchworm himself away, grunting and wheezing with the effort. Bill walked slowly around him, as if studying him, then delivered a crushing kick to his ribs. As red shirt contracted into a fetal position on his side from the blow, Bill placed his foot on his shoulder, rolling him back over onto his back, then slid his foot to red shirt's throat and leaned down to look into his eyes.

  "You were going to rape my wife and my daughter. I find you guilty."

  The blast was as loud as the first one, but red shirt had trouble screaming with Bill's weight pressing onto his throat. As Bill lifted his foot, red shirt's strangled gurgling turned to a combination of a wail and a howl as he curled into a trembling ball of pain. The muzzle had been so close to red shirt's groin the flash had burned his trousers, emitting a thin whiff of smoke from the singed fabric.

  Tats had been watching the punishment of his fellow gang members, and was having difficulty maintaining a defiant facade. He had always thought himself tough, but he had always been the predator, never the prey. Since he was a teenager, he had reveled in his ability to frighten and intimidate others. He had enjoyed watching their discomfort and fear, then their panic and emotional collapse as he had released his full sadistic personality on them. Now things were reversed, and his mounting terror came wrapped in confusion over his new reality. When Bill came to stand over him, tats' feeble attempt at a kick came more from fear than defiance, a sign of the mental reversal he was now experiencing.

  Instead of standing over him, Bill sat on tats' stomach, straddling him and pinning his head to the ground with a fist full of hair and the pistol barrel pressed hard into his throat. Though tats tried to buck Bill off and bring his legs up to either knee Bill in the back or wrap his legs around Bill's head, his bound wrists and ankles didn't allow him the leverage.

  Bill leaned forward to lock eyes with his prisoner. "I want you to think back a few hours. Think back to the time when you came into our lives intending to destroy us. You saw us as victims, just as I'm sure you've viewed many others over the years. You felt you could take whatever you wanted from us, our property, our dignity, even our lives, simply because you wanted to and you brought force. The lives of others meant nothing to you, because you think with the primitive, destructive mind of a sub-human brute. Well, today, force has been brought against you, and will be applied with the same mercy I'm sure you've shown others."

  The others watched solemnly as Bill handed down the sentence to the man beneath him, Christian and Mike with approval, Ann and Tracy as if they were seeing a part of their husband and father they had never seen before, but also with approval.

  Bill continued. "In a moment, I'm going to geld you with a bullet. I have no doubt the pain will be horrendous. But I imagine that the horror of what has happened to you will surpass even the greatest physical pain. You will realize that one of your intended victims, one you so enjoyed exerting power over, has destroyed you as a man, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

  Bill paused, watching the fear build in the criminal's eyes, then continued. "After I shoot you, I'm going to allow you to live for a while. Not long, but long enough for you to experience the feeling of helplessness and hopelessness you intended for us." Bill moved the gun from tats' throat to his groin. "Now, is there anything you would like to say?"

  Tats was trembling, finally understanding the reality of the situation. He was no longer thinking, his mind fracturing into broken pieces he wasn't able to put back together. "Please... please..."

  "Okay,” replied Bill, “since you asked nicely."

  The sound of the shot only slightly preceded tats' screams. He bucked in agonized frenzy, almost throwing Bill off, but Bill remained on his chest until the thrashing subsided as shock set in. Bill then got up, never taking his eyes off of tat’s face until he turned back to the others.

  Everyone was silent as Bill walked over to his wife and daughter, extending a hand to each. "I'm sorry."

  Both women moved past his extended hands, folding themselves into his arms. As the family embraced, Bill kept repeating "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

  Ann was the first to pull away, and she looked Bill sternly in the eye. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

  "Yes, I do." He looked closely at each of them. "I've allowed myself to hide behind the law and the
thin veneer of what I believed was a civilized society, a veneer I saw torn away every day in my courtroom. By doing so, I abdicated my primary responsibility to provide for the safety and security of my family. I placed your welfare in the hands of a society I saw fail on a daily basis." He nodded at Christian and Mike. "If they hadn't come along, I would probably be dead now and I can't bear to think what would be happening to you. I can only ask that you forgive me."

  Tracy just hugged her dad tighter, but Ann knew that she needed to address her husband's feelings now, not later. She drew away and looked him in the eye.

  "Listen to me. You are the strongest and the bravest man I have ever known. You have stood by your principles, provided for us, protected us and lead us as a family in the world we knew. Don't you ever think you haven't. And don't you ever apologize for being the best man I have ever known.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “What happened today came out of a new world we are apparently living in, and, now that we know it, there is no one I would trust more than you to keep us safe."

  Bill looked at his wife for a moment and slowly nodded. "There's one more thing I have to do."

  He extracted himself from Tracy's arms and walked toward the three criminals on the ground. His first shot took red shirt in the forehead. Moving to camo, who was still writhing on the ground, he lifted the pistol and put one round into his chest. Camo shuddered and stopped moving.

  As he moved over to tats, Ann walked over to him and put a hand on his arm. He turned to see her standing beside him with her hand out.

  "I've been your partner for thirty years,” she said. “I'm your partner now. He hurt you. He's mine."

  After a moment's hesitation, Bill handed the gun to her. "Are you sure?"

  Ann nodded. "It's mine to do."