Field of Blackbirds, Clayton Jeppsen & Lindsey Jeppsen [historical books to read TXT] 📗

got there. He heard more gunshots, a lot of gunshots……and a lot of screaming. Lazar began running faster and faster. He had to pass the market and cross through the bazaar. She was only about three minutes from there.
No matter how fast he ran. Lazar felt like a boat anchor was chained to one leg and a loud jukebox to the other. He felt like he was in a nightmare. He heard other soldiers calling out to him, trying to get his attention, but he kept running.
As Lazar entered the bazaar, he realized that he was being shot at. He spun around when he felt a bullet whiz right past his head. It sent him to the ground. Lazar didn’t want to stop but he saw a lot of muzzle flash and began to see things exploding all around him. His head was ringing now. His ability to hear had scurried off with his judgment. He was sure to crumble under anxiety. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking.
Milla, he thought. I have to get to her. It was the only coherent plan now.
“I have to get to her!!!” He yelled out loud. And then he screamed in the Japanese bonsai fashion!
Lazar began firing his weapon directly in front of him. He was losing control. Tears began flowing down his face as he ran. His body still wasn’t moving as fast as his will was pushing. When Lazar emptied one magazine, he quickly loaded another. But by then the firing subsided. The gunshots were coming from somewhere else now. Lazar found himself running right through a group of men holding guns, resisters. Not one of them shot at him. Maybe they could tell that he wasn’t interested in them or maybe they heard him scream Milla’s name.
What Lazar feared most, all along, was happening now. He saw soldiers already on Milla’s street. How did they get there before him, he wondered? Perhaps he lost more time when he was pinned down in the bazaar than he thought. Now he could tell gunshots were coming from the soldiers on her street. It seemed impossible. Lazar felt helpless. He gave one last charge toward Milla’s home. He could hear more screaming. He had never heard Milla’s scream before. He didn’t know who it belonged to. Tears were still pouring down Lazar’s face. He was terrified.
Milla’s house was in sight. Lazar wasn’t sure if people were inside. He was going to enter from the back.
Just before Lazar reached the house, a man jumped out of a parked truck wielding a knife. He lunged at Lazar, just missing his stomach with the knife. The distraction ailed his resolve. He wanted to explain to the man that he wasn’t going to hurt him. But Lazar only saw him as a final roadblock, preventing him from reaching his love. If circumstances were different, Lazar would have spared the man. He pointed his rifle . . . . . . . and shot him.
Lazar felt his sanity beating at the inside of his skull. He raced to the back of the house. None of the lights were on. He opened the back door and called Milla’s name.
He thought that could frighten her, so he yelled, “Milla, its Lazar. I want to help you get out of here. Where are you Milla?”
Lazar could give her his CZ model 9mm and they could make a run for it, but he heard nothing. He quickly swept the house. Lazar’s panic intensified when he realized that the house had already been searched. Furniture had been turned over and things were broken. Lazar heard more gunshots coming from outside. He ran out and met other soldiers firing their weapons into the trees.
He heard them yelling, “They’re running toward the river. Don’t let them get across the river.”
Lazar ran, pushing past the other soldiers to see if Milla was out there. There were more gunshots. It was constant now. The screams were terrifying. Lazar heard women and children out there. He couldn’t believe this was happening. As he approached the river, Lazar heard water splashing and saw a group of about fifty people moving through the water as fast as they could. He searched frantically for Milla. He even called out her name over and over again. The soldiers were still firing their weapons into the water.
It was a horrific scene. As the dawn was beginning to break, a pale light cast over dozens of bodies floating down the river. It was the phantom of the holocaust, a symphony of dying voices. He hoped Milla wasn’t among them. Most of the group had escaped across the river into a sympathetic early morning mist. The firing slowed down now.
Lazar couldn’t calm his emotions. He was trembling. He felt like his soul was doused with gasoline and his heart would burst into flames. His body ached and he felt filthy and ashamed. It was a feeling as though everyone he knew was watching him now; watching him in disbelief and disgust. The weight was more than he could bear.
Lazar found a tree that had fallen, in its own defeat, next to the river. He leaned his weapon against it and knelt down by the water. The water was contaminated but he didn’t care. He began washing his face. Lazar hated what he had become. An image formed in his head of the man he shot. He was only protecting his home. He hadn’t done anything wrong and Lazar killed him for it. He would never forgive himself.
Milla flooded his thoughts again. The fright and terror she must have felt. It was devouring him whole. Lazar convinced himself that he was the most evil man he could imagine. He even thought of taking his own life. He unsnapped his holster and reached for his handgun. He brought the cold steel to his temple.
At that moment, Lazar thought of his mother. He thought of Dejana and Mr. Nowak. Finally, he thought of Milla again. What if she was okay? What if he could see her again? Lazar knew that she would not want anything to do with him. But just knowing she was okay was enough reason to go on living.
As much as Lazar wanted to ask God, why, he found himself asking for God’s help. He had never really prayed on his own before, but right now it was the only thing he wanted to do. He knelt under some low-hanging trees by the river. He asked God if He was out there. Then he asked if He was listening.
First, Lazar found himself praying over Milla, that she was alive and okay. Then he prayed over the people that had died this morning, and that their souls rest in piece. Then he began to pray over his own soul, and if it not be too late, he asked God if He could salvage what good was left in him.
With the little strength he had left, Lazar stood; put himself together and started patrolling through the trees. He began calling out her name softly, “Milla . . . Milla.”


Chapter 4 – Lindsey Love & the Skylark


Los Angeles, California 1992

“I love you.” A tear cut the side of her face.
She couldn’t have made it any harder on him. Why did she have to wait until now to tell him how she really felt? Reed reached forward, pushing her silky auburn hair out of her face.
“Lindsey, I leave for basic training in three weeks, I wish I would have known how you really felt about me. I told you I loved you so many times.”
“I know Reed. I just didn’t want to be the reason you changed your mind. I know you’ve always wanted to be a Marine. I know how much it means to you.” Lindsey couldn’t even look him in the eye when she said it. She knew it would be painful.
“I could have changed my mind on my own. We could have made plans together or I could have put it off for a while until we figured things out.” Reed ran his fingers through his sandy-blond hair, leaving it out of place. Then he put his arms around Lindsey to assure he wasn’t mad at her.
“I know we could have planned some things, Reed, but I love you for everything you are. I don’t want to change any of it. I want to help you achieve your goals, not ruin them.”
Lindsey batted her soft green eyes and looked up at him, her red lips flaring. She caressed his forearm and then his bicep under his sleeve. “Reed, when I say I love you, it means I’ll wait for you. I’ll be here for you when you get home, no matter how long it takes.”
Reed really did feel her love, but from now until he could truly be with her again, there would be emptiness, a hole in his heart that ached for repair. It was taking its toll on him now, but for the moment he just wanted to hold her and not let go.

Reed finished one semester at UCLA. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to major in. He considered business, maybe international business or trade. He would pick up where he left off when he was discharged from the Corp.
Reed told his dad that he would come home to Hinckley to help with the farm work and spend time with the family before he left. Now, he wasn’t sure if he could keep that promise. He wanted to spend every last moment he had with Lindsey.
Reed and Lindsey met on a group date. They were going to Huntington Beach for a game of sand volleyball. Afterwards, the group built a big bonfire and sat around talking, mostly about school. Reed was surprised when he found out that Lindsey wasn’t going to school. She seemed to be the brightest one out of the bunch. She also seemed the most excited about life and the future.
The conversation swayed toward politics and one of the other girls said, “Hey Lindsey, I saw your dad on TV a couple days ago. He is so cute.”
His name was Harvey Love. But everyone called him, Mr. Love. Lindsey friends would say he looked just like Robert Redford. He was tall and in good shape for his age. He had peppered, sandy-blond hair that was never perfectly combed and bright blue eyes that could make a girl