Tumultus by D. W. Ulsterman Page B

reached for his own weapon holstered inside his jacket.
     
    “Don’t want to do that.  Keep your hands where I can see them or your brains will be outside your head a lot faster than you can reach for whatever you’re reaching for.”
     
    Imran could see the outline of the cabin some fifty or so yards ahead, though no light was on inside.  He found that odd given Cooper had indicated to him earlier they were to have arrived by now.
     
    “You got a name, little man?”
     
    Imran held both his hands up and asked if he could turn around slowly.  As he did so he heard two more people approaching from his right.
     
    “No turning around.  I asked you if you have a name.”
     
    “Yes, but might I ask who you are as well?  I am not accustomed to meeting uninvited guests out here.  What is your purpose, my friend?”
     
    Imran could hear two more approaching from his left as well.  He was surrounded.
     
    Then he felt something nudge his crotch.
     
     
    X.
     
     
    “Brando!  Here!”
     
    The Doberman immediately responded to Cooper’s order, sprinting away from Imran and sitting to Cooper’s right.
     
    Imran felt a wave of relief at the sound of Cooper Wyse’s voice.
     
    “Glad to know it is you, old friend.  And hello to Brando as well, of course!”
     
    To his left, Imran could now clearly see Cooper, along with a very large, bearded man.  To Imran’s right were three others – an older man with short cropped grey hair and glasses, and another man in his late thirties or early forties of medium height and build standing close to an attractive dark brown-haired woman of similar age.
     
    “What are you doing here already?  Any trouble?”
     
    Imran smiled to each of the four others before responding to Cooper.
     
    “Trouble…yes.  Always trouble.  Can we perhaps go inside, Cooper?”
     
    Cooper Wyse turned and began walking back toward the cabin as Brando sprinted ahead in front.  Imran followed as the four others fell in behind him.
     
    Once inside the small cabin, Imran again smiled at the others.  He was again silently shocked at how large the bearded man was.
     
    “Imran, these four come from Alaska. This is Mac, Bear, Dublin, and Reese. Like my message to you said, we need some help getting across the territories and I figured you would be able to provide that help.  Thanks for showing up, even if you getting here early put a bit of a spook in us.”
     
    Imran’s dark, rounded face fell in upon itself with regret.
     
    “Oh, I apologize.  It was…it became necessary you see.  Tomorrow…restrictions have been put in place.  Travel is being regulated.  There is a threat.  Rumors of an invasion by Muslims.”
     
    Bear’s eyes narrowed as he listened intently to Imran’s explanation of his early arrival.
     
    “Muslims?  Ain’t you one of them?  A Muslim?”
     
    The much smaller man glanced nervously toward Bear.
     
    “No, I’m Christian!  My family, yes, we came from Turkey, but I am not a Muslim.  I would not be allowed to live in the outpost…Fort Wilfrid.  The godfather has very little tolerance for Muslims, for Islam.  He barely tolerates any religion, really.”
     
    Mac, Bear, Reese, and Dublin all turned to look at Cooper.  Mac was the first to pose a question.
     
    “What the hell is he going on about Coop?  What is Fort Wilfrid?  Who or what is the godfather, and what is this about some invasion?”
     
    Cooper Wyse looked over to Imran and then back to Mac.
     
    “Fort Wilfrid is where Imran lives.  It’s about a hundred miles from here give or take.  Slow going getting there though, especially in the colder months, which up here, is most the year.  The godfather is the name of the guy who started up the whole place – Fort Wilfred.  He’s been out there for about fifteen years or so.  Been told he’s a bit different, but as far as how things are done in Canada, about as good as you’re gonna get.  And Imran’s right.  From what