The Journeymen

Wet Socks

Just as Jack's elbow predicted, the rain came. Just after midday while the trio were eating a light meal as their mounts grazed and drank from a stream, the skies opened up. At the first sign of raindrops, Jack, Chuck, and Anya scrambled to unfold their ponchos. Once they had covered themselves they took whatever steps they could to make sure all of their supplies, weapons, and ammunition would be safe from the rainfall as it grew heavier. By the time the three Journeymen were fully covered and back on the road, the downpour was thick and heavy with the rain coming in sheets.

"This is perfect weather to travel in," Chuck said loudly over the rain as it pattered into the companions' ponchos. "Nobody further than a few yards out can see or hear us and the rain conceals any kind of tracks. Plus nobody in their right mind would be out in this weather. If anybody is tracking us, we'll lose them."

Anya could only laugh as she, somehow while completely covered in her poncho, was still soaked and dripping, "I think you're right, nobody in their right mind would be out in this. Clearly we are crazy!"

They rode on throughout the day, doing what they could to keep dry, focusing their efforts on keeping their equipment dry, even if it meant that they and the clothes they were wearing got wet. Fortunately in their part of the world, early fall rain was still warm and although they were drenched and uncomfortable, they were at least not dangerously cold.

"Are anybody else's feet completely soaked?" Chuck complained out loud.

Jack grunted, "You know how I feel about when my socks get wet. Every other part of me is wet but my feet are still warm and dry. It's all about the right boots."

Chuck rolled his eyes before telling Anya, "Once when I was Jack's training officer back when we were cops, we had to chase this dude that kept breaking into cars and he led us through a creek. I really thought Jack was going to quit on me while we were sitting in the car typing up the report, apparently he really doesn't like it when his feet get wet."

Anya laughed at the two old friends and at the thought of the normally stoic Jack being so thoroughly bothered by damp feet.

"Ever since then I always keep a dry pair of boots and socks close by. And I always wear waterproof boots. I don't care if my feet get a little hot, I want them dry," Jack said as he rode on, doing his best to see as far as possible in the heavy rain.

As the soggy afternoon dragged on into evening, Jack and Chuck began to recognize the telltale sign that they were approaching the village. The scattered farms of the countryside became more frequent with actual houses now being visible from the road. Humans naturally clustered with both a felt and actual safety in being close to other people. The more densely packed farms were proof that a population center, even one as small as the village that was their destination, was close by.

Jack knew a bridge was ahead of them on the dirt road. It had been a small bridge before the Separation, only wide enough for one lane of vehicle traffic to pass over. Local farmers and the nearby village kept the bridge in working order, shoring up whatever they could with the supplies that were available to them. Jack would never drive a car over the bridge but he felt comfortable riding his horse.

The bridge came into view through the haze of the dense rain. Over the intense patter of rain striking the ground, Jack could hear sounds of a fight. He could hear men grunting, blows landing on wet skin, and splashes in water. The Journeymen quickened their walking horses to a trot and saw a tangled mess of men rolling around and fighting in the mud, all seeming to be targeting one especially muddy form. The other men, five in number seemed to be struggling to stay on their feet. They landed blows occasionally but seemed to always slip and fall onto their backsides in the mud and shallow water of the bank of the stream that the bridge had been built over.

The water was high and flowing powerfully thanks to the heavy rainfall. One of the attackers drew close to the muddy man and took a swing with his right fist. The attacker suddenly lost his feet, the punch swinging wildly off to the side of the muddy human shape. The men continued toward their sole victim as if they were only further angered by their constant slipping until finally two men grabbed hold of the muddy man and shoved his head under the water of the fast flowing stream.

At the sight of the lone man being dunked under the water, Jack swiftly dismounted the horse, and stripped off his poncho. It seemed as though once the muddy man's head was dunked under water that his five attackers regained their footing. The three men not holding their prey under the water turned to face Jack.

The closest swung at Jack, aiming for his face with a wide sweeping punch. Jack easily ducked the blow and slammed his fist into the man's exposed belly, immediately winding him. The man sank to his knees as Jack hurried forward to rescue the man that was being drowned before him.

As Jack worked through the roadside attackers, Chuck smacked Anya on the back, shouting, "Well go help him!"

Anya copied Jack's movement, sweeping her legs off of the saddle while simultaneously throwing her poncho off of her shoulders and onto the ground. She hurried towards the two men holding the drowning, formerly muddy man under the water. She kicked one in the backside, sending him face first into the water, still holding the man he was trying to drown. As Jack fought the three men with near ease, Anya now was confronted by the man she had not kicked into the water. He was a large, stupid looking man with a full beard and long brown hair. He was dirty from his multiple falls in the mud and appeared to be missing at least a few teeth, most likely due to poor hygiene.

The large man was initially shocked by the attack from his smaller female attacker but he quickly swiped at her with right hand that looked more like a bear paw. Anya's instincts took over as she side-stepped the man's blow. She grabbed his wrist and with a twist, slammed him to the ground. Her father's self defense training had stuck with her.

While in her brief moment of pride, the man swept her legs out from under her with a surprisingly swift kick to her ankles. Anya fell fully to the ground on her stomach with a wet sounding slap as she fell into the slick muddy bank. She scrambled to her feet, hat missing, mud covering the right side of her head. Her eye burned from the grit of the mud that got into it. She tried to blink it out as the man she initially kicked had stood up, dragging the man he was trying to drown up with him. The attacker punched his soggy victim across the jaw, sending him falling into the water. He and the man that Anya had thrown to the ground now moved toward Anya in unison.

When Jack saw the man he had dismounted to rescue fall into the rushing water he moved quickly. He only had one attacker remaining on his feet after his furious onslaught of punches and knee and elbow strikes. Jack pulled the last man in close before smashing him in the jaw with an upward strike of his elbow. The man's head snapped back as Jack deftly pushed him to the side.

With a wince Jack rushed into the thigh deep water and thrust his arms in after the formerly muddy victim of the initial fight. He hauled the surprisingly thin man up and slung his water logged, limp body over his shoulder before turning to the fight. The three men he fought were slowly rising to their feet and Anya was backpedaling from the two men who seemed to be planning out the best way to attack the smaller young woman. Jack saw that one of the men advancing on Anya held a knife and that the man he had elbowed was coming up with a knife as well.

Jack held the limp man with his right arm and could not reach the holstered pistol on his hip. He pulled out the kukri on his left hip with with his left hand in a reverse grip and took up his best fighting stance when he heard three loud booms. Chuck stood over the fight, holding his rifle aloft.

"You five better get out of here now!" he shouted, needing no further threat than his voice and the rifle in his hand.

The men scurried off over the bridge and toward the village. Jack looked up at Chuck. He slumped his shoulders slightly when he realized what happened.

"My socks are wet," the younger Journeyman said sullenly. Chuck and Anya both burst into loud laughter.