Orphan Ch. 01

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Vjax
Vjax
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Alexander responded as he moved slowly over to his open duffel to retrieve a shirt.

"Yes sir, just heading up north and needed a place to bed down for the night, I was just getting up and around to get back on the road."

John Sims had noted the scars on the mans back as he watched him before he spoke. A few bullet holes and knife wounds, from the ragged look of it, the scar of burn bandaged in the field across his left shoulder.

He had seen the scars continue along the front when the young man had turned around.

A long slim scar, raised and red from a knife blade starting from his collar bone that angled across and down to his waist to disappear at the line of his jeans.

An exit wound from a bullet shot from behind.

The obvious limp as he moved slowly to his duffel.

Jim was surprised to see the young man shirtless when he came upon him while doing his usual circuit of the area. Early April was still damn cold at this elevation. Looking over his gear John didn't see a sleeping bag, only a well worn army blanket. While curious, he chose not to comment on it, he didn't sense anything different about the man and felt it best not to push. Keeping his voice friendly he continued with the vague pleasantries.

"A good place to stop, wouldn't want to wreck that beauty of yours." He said motioning to the Harley.

His tone was jovial, calm by choice. Whoever this young man was he had obviously seen his share of trouble. And trouble usually followed those with which it had such an obvious connection.

Alexander merely nodded as he pulled the shirt down over his chest, noting the officer had not moved since he had first turned around. He relaxed a little, not sensing anything openly threatening about him as he pulled his boots on.

"There's a nice little diner about four miles down the road, if you're lookin for breakfast you won't find any better in the whole state."

Jim relaxed as the man sat down to lace his boots.

'Army issue.' Jim thought. The boots, the duffel, all clues to the young mans recent past.

"I just might stop in, lunch yesterday was my last meal. I was too tired to find something last night. I hope me crashing here was not a problem."

"None at all, much rather have you crash here than around a tree up the road." The officer said with a smile.

Jim paused as Alexander stood again, stretching his arms over his head before running long fingers through hair.

"Where you headed up north? If you don't mind me asking."

Alexander was not surprised by the question. More times than he cared to remember over the last six months someone had asked him something similar. Often times it was given as a challenge, one that Alexander never rose too. This one didn't have that feel, it had, surprisingly, the inflection of honest interest.

As he gathered up his saddle bags and walked to his bike he answered.

"Red Lodge, just north of the state line."

Jim was surprised by the response, Red Lodge was not usually on anyone's itinerary, hell he knew people that lived within a day of the place that had never even heard of it.

"Pretty country up there, a nice quiet place, you got friends or family from up that way?"

Alexander pulled a clean bandana from his duffel before closing it and tying it on the back of the bike.

"Nope, just saw it on a map and decided it would be my next stop."

Alexander was becoming a little suspicious, his body tensing just a bit as his senses heightened, waiting to see what question was coming next.

Jim took it all in and decided that whatever this man had been through and he was drawn to Red Lodge so be it.

Jim took a step forward and extended his hand.

"You have a safe trip then, if you do stop at the diner try the country omelet it will get you through a day on the road, no doubt about it."

Alexander took the offered hand, gave it a firm shake and let go. Relief coursing through him as the opportunity for a confrontation passed.

"Thanks, I'll do that. You have a good day officer."

Alexander started the Harley, letting it calm to a steady burbling idle before nodding to the officer and heading off down the road.

Jim stood watching as he drove away, something tickling the back of his mind, a feeling of deja-vu coming over him as he watched the young man ride away. Shaking it off he decided to have lunch at the diner, Millie would most assuredly remember if the young man had taken him up on his advice.

-vVv-

On the outskirts of Custer National Park, Red Lodge, Montana was off the beaten track to be sure.

Boasting an interesting if not particularly inspiring history, it was a quintessential small western town.

Founded in 1884, coal and then gold drew people to this small outpost in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. A mix of northern European, Asian and local Crow Indians had given the small town a unique mix of people and traditions.

Jenabel Benton loved her town with a passion not usually seen in twenty year old women, but then Red Lodge was home to so much of her history it was only natural that the place would hold special meaning for her and the rest of her family.

Her great great grandfather Ezra had been the first post master in town, served as mayor, councilman and sheriff. As the years and generations passed, Red Lodge grew and shrank as all small towns do. People were born, lived and died within her, held her secrets, added to them and passied them down to those that came after.

Many left, the allure and history of the town and surrounding mountains lost to them. Most of the graduating members of Red Lodge High couldn't leave town quickly enough. Wanting to see the world they said. Jenabel scoffed at the notion.

She had seen some of the world, left her hometown for college, seen and done things outside the confines of this little corner of the world. It left her with a bitter taste in her mouth and a yearning to be where she knew she belonged.

Graduating from MSU with honors, Jenabel's business degree would be put to good use in her families holdings. During her years away she had made a point to travel, to take every opportunity to see what the world had to offer. From symposiums on emerging business trends in China that let her stand on the great wall to a six week internship with Barclay's Bank in London providing an opportunity to do all the touristy stops that she greatly enjoyed. Jenabel was not a sheltered mountain flower.

Of all the places she had seen though, none gave the simple yet deep feeling of home that came as she walked down Broadway, the main street of her home town.

"Jenabel."

She recognized her fathers voice immediately.

Turning she watched as he strode up to her. As always he was in a rush, it came with his position but she wished on more than one occasion that he could simply slow down and take life a bit easier.

"Daddy." She said, reaching up to hug is thick neck.

The years had been kind to her father, a big man, standing over 6'2" he had a commanding presence. Close cropped gray hair covered his head. She had often imagined what he would look like with longer hair, she thought it would have softened his features. 'It's probably why he keeps it cut short,' she mused.

Yes, with his broad shoulders, button down western shirt and ever present black Stetson, Carl Benton was a force to be reckoned with.

"Where you heading baby girl?" Carl asked as he wound his arm around her waist and walked down the street with her in tow.

"I was just gonna grab a quick sandwich at Meg's before heading over to the mine."

While mining as a big industry had died out decades ago, the Benton family had kept its hand in it over the years with steady results. The operation was small but that was what made it profitable. A good amount of coal came out of the ground each year with little impact on the mountains the family and community so loved.

More revenue came in from the gold mine but the family made sure very few people had that knowledge. No need for folks to know all their business, and with the size of their family it was pivotal to keeping them in the black.

"I'm heading into Bearcreek, you want to ride along?"

It was odd for her father to seek her out for a quick trip to the neighboring town and she as much as told him so.

"Why would you need me? I've got the quarterly reports to get to the accountant and we have the new earth mover being delivered today; I should be there to check it over before we accept it."

Carl Benton smiled down at his daughter. She was a tenacious little thing, just like her mother. His own mother would be so proud of her granddaughter, all spit and vinegar and not afraid of anything.

"Brad is at the mine, he is more than capable of looking over the new machine. And as for the reports, fuck the accountants they can wait a day or two or three."

Jenabel shook her head wearily. By the tone of his voice her father would not take no for answer. She was curious about his motives but knew it was pointless to ask. He would get around to telling her what was on him mind when he was good and ready, not a moment sooner.

"Well let me get a sandwich to go then, God knows you won't want to stop to eat after your appointment." She said the last with easy humor, none would take her father for a man who loitered over such inconsequential things as food.

"I'll meet you in the truck." He said over his shoulder while grabbing his cellphone to make a call.

Jenabel shook her head and smiled as she stepped into the small restaurant, she would need to be quick, nothing put her father in a mood quicker than being kept waiting.

The proverbial other shoe dropped on the way home.

"Thomas Bouchard called me this morning."

Jenabel's expression darkened instantly but she held her tongue.

With a glance to his right Carl was not surprised to find a storm brewing in his daughters swirling brown and gold flecked eyes.

With a small smile he continued.

"Thomas thought it might be a good idea, now that your home from college to stay, to put a small party together, sort of a welcome home kind of thing. Let everyone know your back for good, give you a chance to catch up with old friends."

Her fathers tone was hopeful. She saw right through him.

One of the few bad things about being part of a unique and historied family was that it burdened those in it with the weight of tradition. Every generation it seemed that some how some way a Bouchard and a Benton had married. The families had always been close. Both families had settled in the area at the same time about 100 miles apart. Over the generations a close bond was forged between them.

While Jenabel treasured most of her heritage, this was one she vehemently felt was ready for the scrap heap, and was not shy in giving her opinions on.

"Oh that's real sweet daddy that you and Mr. Bouchard are so concerned about my "old friends" being sure to know I'm back home. It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Mr. Bouchard's son is wanting to sniff around and see if I have an interest in continuing the tradition now could it?"

Carl didn't know whether to be mad or pleased with his youngest daughter as he looked into her eyes, trying to define exactly how far she was willing to push this.

The momentary distraction was at the most inopportune moment, as most such distractions are.

The doe jumped up onto the road in the same instant that Carl's attention was on his daughter. The flash out of the corner of his eye provided that something was in the road. He swerved on instinct.

Anywhere else on Brophy Road and things would have been fine. But the doe chose the hairpin switch back at the top of the rise.

The Suburbans tires squealed trying to maintain their grip on the road, they almost made it but as they were already turning the momentum was just too great.

Carl's ears were assaulted by the screams of his daughter and gut rending howl of steel being bent and torn as the truck tumbled end over end down into the ravine.

The noise ended as quickly as it had begun.

Small things registered.

The tick of the now dead engine as the fluids drained to the top of the motor.

Thick fumes of leaking gasoline assaulting his nose.

Quiet whimpers from beside him.

Carl's hand reached out, gently shaking his daughters leg. A louder, tortured groan the only reply.

The roof of the Suburban had caved in when they finally came to rest on it. The seat belts locking them in as they dangled only a few inches from the shattered ceiling, the release levers just out of reach.

Carl took long deep breaths, trying maintain control. He needed to stay present, couldn't let the wildness that threatened to overtake him do so. If he lost it, gave into the feral fear growing in the center of his chest they would only be worse off.

The fumes were getting stronger, Carl was running out of time and options, he needed a miracle, not for him as much as his baby girl.

"Daddy?"

Jenabel's voice was thick with pain.

"I'm here baby, it's gonna be okay, you just relax, I'll get us out of this."

She was calmed by his words, but knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"I can't move my arm, its wedged between me and door, it hurts and...there's a lot of blood."

Carl closed his eyes.

"Hold on baby, just hold on."

-vVv-

The closer Alexander came to Red Lodge, the more anxious he became.

It was always the same when arriving someplace new. What were the people like, would they be accepting or find him simply unacceptable. Alexander kept to himself by nature. In some of the places he had been that was the norm, people keeping their own council and their business their own. In others it was expected of new comers to be almost immediately forth coming with who they were and what their intentions were.

As Alexander didn't know the answer to those things himself, it was impossible to share them with others which had led to more than a few harsh words spoken of and to him.

He had been heading west on Hwy 308 for most of the past hour. A quick stop to stretch and fill the bike up in Bearcreek was the only stop he had made since having breakfast at the small diner the officer had recommended.

He had been right, the omelet was one of the best things he had ever tasted, too bad they were now four hours south of his chosen new home.

'Hell might be worth a ride every now and again.'

Alexander thought as he noticed the side road leading off north west from the 308's almost due west path.

He slowed the bike to a crawl as he came even with the road, trying to decide if he should indulge his desire to wander once again or just stay on course.

"Fuck it."

The words were lost in the noise of the Harley's engine revving loudly as he turned onto the smaller side road, accelerating fast as the road wound it's way among the deep ravines that surrounded it.

Alexander grinned as he saw the hairpin turn coming up, his body tensing, getting ready to pit himself and his ride against the forces of gravity and physics. Just before the turn he noticed the dark black streaks on the highway. Saw the shattered glass along the edge toward the ravine.

Locking the brakes he skidded to a stop.

Dropping the kickstand and jumping off the still running motorcycle he ran to the edge.

There, about a hundred feet down was a Suburban on its roof.

"Dammit." Alexander said as he pealed off his jacket and navigated his way to the crushed vehicle. He had seen these types of crashes before, the outcome was rarely good.

The doors were wedged closed in the impact, he could smell the gasoline that was leaking from the wreck, hear the metal groan as it strained to maintain what little integrity it had left.

Bending down Alexander looked through the 1/3 of the window still open to see a man hanging from the seat belt.

"Hold on, I'll get you out."

Kneeling down Alexander put his jacket on the jagged metal edge of the crumpled window. Setting his legs tight against the wreckage he pulled with all his strength.

The metal screamed at this newest stress, fighting against the strain Alexander was placing on it. He felt it give just a little, it groaned under the force but held tight.

"Never mind me, save Jenabel."

Alexander heard the words but wouldn't give up, it wasn't in his nature.

Eyes closing Alexander felt the familiar pressure build. It rushed to the fore faster than ever before which startled Alexander. He had never tried to purposely find the strength, doing so now it seemed a battle of wills, as if to access the power he had to wrench it from another's control.

The first time it came to him was in Afghanistan, coming to him unbidden in a moment of great need.

His first two missions had gone well, in and out, targets neutralized and back to base without so much as a scratch. This time was different.

His squad had been ambushed just before reaching the target. Three died in the initial RPG hit which brought down a good portion of the cliff wall they were traversing. Only he and Peterson were left, exchanging fire with the insurgents on the other side of the small canyon.

"Leave me Dane, get out now, we won't be able to hold them off, my legs are broken, get your ass out of here!"

His Lieutenant screamed at him over the din of the incoming rounds.

Peterson's legs were crushed under a large boulder that had been dislodged during the initial explosion.

"Fuck that...sir."

Alexander was damned if he would leave the man behind.

Slinging his rifle he put his back to the rock, pulling with all his strength the rock wouldn't move an inch.

"I told you, get the fuck out of here, call in an air strike, take these cocksucker out Dane!"

Alexander ignored the LT, continuing to struggle against the unmoving rock, his hope starting to wane that he would be able to rescue his fallen commander.

At the point Alexander was about to give in, he felt a strange feral energy well up within him. It was nothing like he had ever experienced before.

One moment he was struggling against the rock, the weight simply too overwhelming for his own strength to match. And then he became infused with something more. Like a wave cresting and the power crashing through him the rock moved. The initial shock almost made Alexander lose his hold. Tightening his grip, arms and shoulders flexing taut under the strain the boulder moved smoothly, unpinning the LT's legs.

"Come on, we've got move!"

Alexander shouted as he slung his wounded commander over his shoulder making their escape.

It had happened on and off over the years when the situation was dire and Alexander felt the most helpless.

Now, for the first time he willed it to come over him, needing that feral power to save the people in the Suburban.

The door screeched under the strain and came loose, the car rocking under the sudden release.

Sliding the small stiletto out of his boot, the sun glinting off the blade, Alexander cut the seat belt as the man slumped into his arms.

Alexander dragged the near unconscious man up the side of the ravine as far as he could in case the car exploded.

"Jenabel...Jena..."

The man lost his battle with consciousness as Alexander turned to sprint back to the wreck.

The other side of the vehicle was in worse shape, only a few inches of the window remained open from the crushing blows it had taken rolling down the hill.

Peering in, Alexander saw a dark cascade of flowing black hair, a young woman's face veiled by blood and bruises as her body hung limp, caught in mid-fall by the seat belt.

With a primal growl Alexander grabbed the sill, hands cut to shreds by the jagged metal and glass. He didn't notice as he focused on the door, seeing it in his minds eye ripped from its hinges so he could get to the trapped woman beyond.

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