Sometimes We Ran (Book 3): Rescue by Stephen Drivick Page A

It was Josh, wearing his usual baseball cap and leather jacket with camo pants. There's young, and then there's really young. Josh was barely eighteen years old. His schooling was still going on, but he wanted to join the security forces. As he was still in training, I gave him light duty and usually paired him with a more experienced guard. Today, he was watching the schools with Elizabeth.
    “Hey, John ....I mean, yes, sir.” Josh stammered over his words. He was always eager to please.
    “What did I tell you guys about the sir stuff?”
    Josh looked crestfallen. “You told us not to call you 'sir.' Sorry.”
    “Just kidding. Relax before you shoot somebody in the butt. Where's Liz?” I said.
    The smile returned to Josh's peach-fuzzed face when he realized I was joking around. “She's in the yard. The kids are getting some fresh air.”
    I went around the house and approached the fence. The sounds of children playing a game of tag reached my ears. I stood and watched for a few seconds. The kids ran around the small yard chasing each other in a game they called “Don't Be Bitten”. One of the kids is designated as the Red-Eye and he chases the other kids around trying to get them. When the game was first invented, the kids actually bit each other, but the teachers quickly put a stop to that. It was now just a fancy game of tag.
    Elizabeth walked up to the fence, and said, “You know, I think I like watching over the children the best of all.”
    I couldn’t agree more. It was the best duty in Cannon Fields. I often volunteered in the early days, and it made me feel better about life somehow. “I agree. Claire around?”
    Elizabeth pointed to the house. “Over there near the porch, talking to a couple of kids.”
    A plastic football arced in and hit the fence, just inches from Elizabeth's rear end. We both looked up and saw two blond-haired boys of about seven, laughing and running away. They made funny faces to get Elizabeth to chase them.
    I entered the yard, and walked carefully through the riot of children. I tried my best to hide my weapons. A majority of the children ignored me to continue their frantic game, but a few shrank back and looked scared. I tried to smile and gently touch each one of the fearful ones on the head as I went past to show I meant no harm. Seeing an armed man in their midst still scared them. No matter how hard we tried to chase them away, a few of the kids still had terrible visions of the past in their heads. The orphans were the worst. Many had seen their family slaughtered in front of their eyes. It sometimes took a few months to even get them to talk again.
    I finally navigated the sea of children, and reached Claire who was sitting on an old folding chair, baseball bat at her side. She was bandaging the tiny wrist of a little red-haired girl. Tears stained her angelic face, but Claire made it all better. She kissed the wound, and the little girl was all smiles again. She ran off to rejoin the game in the yard.
    “Good job. Doctor Connelly should watch her back,” I said.
    Claire turned to look at me. She looked tired. “Just a boo-boo.” She closed the first-aid box. “What brings you to our humble school, John?”
    “Need to ask you a favor.”
    Claire beat me to the punch. “You need me to go out with you on some crazy-ass mission.”
    I was stunned. Maybe Claire was psychic as well. “How did you know?”
    Claire smiled a bit. “You know this place. Word travels fast around here.”
    “What do you think? I need your help,” I said.
    Claire got that little smirk on her face. It was the smirk that told me she was not going to make this easy. “Now, John. That's not how it works.” She stood up, grabbed my arm, and turned me towards the yard. “Every guest who comes to my school has to meet the kids.”
    “That's okay, really. Don't make a fuss.” I was okay with kids, but was a little uncomfortable when I was the center of attention.
    Claire tugged at my arm.