Wormwood Dawn (Episode X)

by Crae, Edward

  Chapter Two

  Enoch looked down at Royce as Doctor Shake tended his dressings. Royce had been injured badly when he and Seth rolled the truck trying to escape. Though the two men had survived the horrific crash, Seth had been murdered with a bullet to the head.

  Enoch wanted to know who pulled the trigger.

  “How are you feeling, Royce?”

  Royce cleared his throat, wincing with pain as the doctor swabbed antibiotic gel onto his burns.

  “Better, boss,” he said. “My shoulder ain’t gonna be like it was, doh.”

  “That’s alright,” Enoch assured him. “We’ll put you on something that doesn’t require use of it.”

  “Thanks,” Royce replied. “I’m sorry, dawg. I did my best tryin’ ta get yo brutha out.”

  “I know you did, playa. This ain’t your fault. You did good. I just wanna know who killed Seth.”

  “I don’t remember seeing much,” Royce said, thinking back. “It was two white dudes, doh. I think the one who shot Seth was wearin’ some combat boots and shit. When he kneeled down he looked like he was bald and had some cracka glasses on and shit.”

  “Cracka glasses?” Enoch repeated with a grin.

  “Yeah, like dem birth control glasses you get in the Army.”

  Enoch remembered them. He even remembered the phrase. It referred to thick-framed plastic glasses you get in basic training. Your personal glasses were always taken and stowed away for after graduation. It was an insurance policy against you losing or breaking your good ones. Enoch’s bunk-buddy had worn them, and he always got made fun of.

  “Bald, huh?” Enoch asked.

  “Shaved,” Royce said. “And it looked like he had a goatee, too. That’s all I saw. I was tryin’ to play dead and shit.”

  “Good, good,” Enoch said. “I’m glad you survived. I’ll find this mutha fucka and send him to his mama. You just lay here and get healed up, and then we’ll find a nice cushy job for you.”

  “I would suggest lookout,” Doctor Shake said. “His arm’s done for, but his eyesight is obviously sharp.”

  “That’s a good idea, doc,” Enoch said. “Take care of him and give him any pain meds he needs.”

  “No problem,” doc said. “But that reminds me. We’re gonna need more antibiotics and pain killers.”

  “Okay. I’ll send some dudes out on a run ASAP.”

  Doc nodded and followed Enoch toward the door, clearing his throat.

  “One other thing,” he said. “There are some ladies here that need… uh…”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Enoch said, smiling. “I’ll make sure they grab some of those, too.”

  “We’ll need some more basic med supplies, too. Bandages, Lidocaine, first-aid spray. Some things for feminine hygiene, too. Not just pads and plugs but for…”

  “Oh,” Enoch said. “I got it. Right, right.”

  He turned and went out the door, heading toward his quarters. He would have to make a list for his men, and go over some plans to find these rebels that killed his brother. Just the thought of them made him angry; angry enough to bust the glass of a trophy case as he passed it. Some men that were in the hall farther down stepped aside when he came near, avoiding eye contact. They knew Enoch was hot-headed, even when he wasn’t pissed off. He ignored them, not feeling like engaging anyone for any reason.

  The name “Dan” spun around inside his head over and over again. Dan and Drew. Drew, that fucker that killed his brother. Dan, the fucker that led the group that killed his men. They would both die. He swore it. He hadn’t helped to raise his little half-brother so some punk-ass white boys could shoot him in the head. And he hadn’t put together such a good crew for Seth to command just so this little group could kill every last one of them.

  That fucking technology building was gold. It was in a prime position, in an ideal city for supply runs. Now, it was empty, waiting for a new squad to take up residence there. He would make sure it was well guarded this time. He hadn’t given the group enough supplies to defend the camp. This time it would be different though. He would reorganize the camp and arm them to the teeth. There were a lot more people out there than he thought. And they were people that were dangerous; not the placid sheep he imagined there would be, but survivors, killers, and strategists. This Dan was more skilled than he would have thought. Was he ex-military, redneck, or just lucky?

  Either way, Dan’s luck would run out soon.

  “This is a pretty dense forest,” Travis said as he maneuvered the RV down the gravel path. “It’s like a jungle or something, man.”

  “Welcome to the Jungle,” Jake said from the passenger seat. “We got fun and games.”

  Max poked his head up from the back. “We got everything you want…”

  Jake playfully shoved him back with a palm to the face. Max laughed, drumming on the seat as he played the song in his head.

  “I wonder how secure this place is,” Travis said.

  “If Dan and Drew said it was okay,” Jake said. “Then it’s okay. Besides, it’s just for a night or two.”

  “Well, I’m ready for some kind of rest. These RV cushions are killing my back.”

  “That’s because you’re old,” Jake joked.

  “Whatever, man,” Travis replied, chuckling. “I’m fifteen years older than you.”

  “Yep. Old.”

  “Travis,” Max said. “Do you have experience with HAM radios?”

  “A little, man. I messed around with one in college. We could probably get it working again if we put our heads together.”

  “As long as the batteries are still good,” Jake said. “If not, we can prolly fix ‘em.”

  “Wow,” Travis said as the house came into view. “What a dump, man.”

  “Home sweet home,” Jake said.

  Travis put the RV in park and sat still as he stared at the house. Toni parked her car beside them, and everyone else got out and began looking around. Travis eventually got out to join them, feeling a little better about the place as he scanned the property. Stone blocks were much more secure than wooden planks, even as decrepit as these were. They would be safe for the time being.

  “Well,” he said. “I’ve seen worse.”

  “There’s plenty of food,” Dan said. “And it’s leak free. A little dusty, though.”

  “There’s a dead guy on the porch,” Jake pointed out. “Is he staying, too?”

  “It is his house,” Dan said. “I’m assuming anyway.”

  “We should bury him,” Eric said. “Somewhere on his land. I bet he’d like that.”

  “He prolly doesn’t care,” Jake said.

  “The gas works,” Dan said. “And the well is still nice and watery. The hand pump is over there, and the radio shack is on the other side. I suggest we get some blankets and stuff set up first.”

  Over the next hour, the group gathered up enough supplies to last a few nights. They would all sleep on the floor in the den, where they could keep an eye on each other for safety. Jake and Eric moved the couch and large coffee table out of the way, and Grace and Linda searched through the cabinets for something to combine with what they had. Evidently, the two were dead set on making a home cooked meal.

  Which was why they asked Eric to find some meat to add to the mix.

  Max, Travis, and Jake worked on the radio, while Dan, Cliff, and Drew set up tripwires around the perimeter. They warned Eric of their intentions, however, so he would not set anything off on his way back in. Bill was determined to get a fire going in the fireplace, as the air was beginning to chill. Toby helped him gather firewood and tinder.

  Toni wandered off in search of herbs, also having been told to watch her step on the way back. She was looking for specific plants; ginseng, plantains for a poultice, and maybe some berries. In reality, however, she was really just looking for an excuse to get away and clear her head a little. It had been some time since she had any time to herself, and she wanted the opportunity to silently grieve for Gena, whom she act
ually liked.

  Toni had never really been a people person, and rarely ever spent time with other females. She had mostly male friends, as she could tolerate them. Not so much other women. She could see herself becoming close with Linda, as they were a lot alike. Toni was basically a country girl trapped in a city girl’s body—and lifestyle. She had no patience for social butterflies who spent their entire lives with the eyes glued to a smartphone or computer screen, bragging about shit they probably never did in reality.

  “Fucking Facebook,” she whispered.

  She knew Linda was not that kind of person. She, like Gena, was down to Earth and aware of the world outside of those little online fantasy lands. Linda could hold her own in a fight, wasn’t afraid to do what it takes to survive, and wasn’t a prissy, holier-than-thou social justice warrior.

  She was just a plain, old fashioned woman who lived for life. Just like Toni.

  She was caught off guard by the gentle crunching of leaves nearby. She quickly hid behind a tree, putting her hands on her revolvers, and looked in the sound’s direction. It was Eric, creeping through the forest, making as much noise as a guy his size typically did.

  She grinned, stepping out and waving at him. Eric didn’t seem surprised to see her. He must have heard her. Country boys had good hearing, she knew, and they knew the difference between people and animals.

  “Find anything?” she asked, relaxing.

  Eric shook his head, grumbling. “I haven’t found shit.”

  She noticed the lack of concern in his voice, as if he didn’t really care. He had been quiet the last few days, and she wasn’t sure why.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, walking along with him.

  “I guess so,” Eric replied, sadly. “I’ve just been thinking about things lately.”

  “You’re thinking about those three men you killed,” Toni said.

  Eric nodded, stopping. “Yeah. It’s just been bothering me a little. I’ll be alright.”

  “I’m glad that it bothers you,” Toni said. “You’re a good man. You care about people. I know that situation went against everything you believe, but it had to happen.”

  “I guess so.”

  “No,” Toni said. “Seriously. It had to happen. You saved your friends’ lives, and that is what a real man does—even if it goes against his principles.”

  “I swore I would never kill anybody if I didn’t have to,” he said.

  “But you had to,” Toni reminded him. “There was no other way around it. If you hadn’t have gone off in that rage, Drew and Jake would be dead. You know that.”

  “That’s the thing,” he continued. “I’ve never felt that much rage before. It was pretty scary.”

  Toni chuckled. “It can be,” she assured him. “But it’s what makes us survive. You’ve had all that rage built up inside you, and it finally came when you realized you and your friends were in danger. That’s what those feelings and responses are for.”

  Eric chuckled, shouldering his shotgun and continuing on. “When did you become such a philosopher of human nature.”

  “My daddy was a preacher,” Toni said. “It’s in my blood. Now, get that shotgun ready.”

  “For what?” Eric asked.

  Toni pointed off in the distance where a deer stood quietly munching away at some foliage. “Dinner,” she said.

  “We’ve got power,” Jake said. “That’s plenty of juice to run the radio. I just wonder what’s charging it.”

  “Probably the windmill outside,” Max said. “The cable must be buried. I wonder if anything on the inside is hooked up to it.”

  “Well,” Jake said. “With a bank like this, and this three thousand watt inverter, I’d imagine some small appliances.”

  “Coffee maker, maybe?” Travis suggested. “Because that would be awesome, man.”

  “I’ll go check,” Jake said.

  Max went and sat down in the folding chair at the radio’s table. Travis fiddled with the dials, listening to the static and strange whistling sounds it made. Max adjusted the volume, squelch and other things, unable to get anything. But they continued on, both of them having high hopes that there was at least someone in range that was doing the same thing.

  “Hello, Indiana,” Max said into the microphone. “Is anyone out there?”

  “You’re not much of a radio personality,” Travis jested. “Put some excitement in your voice.”

  Max stared at him blankly. “It’s shortwave radio, man,” he said. “And I’m not Dr. Johnny Fever.”

  Travis grinned. “You’re not old enough to make that reference.”

  “The hell I’m not,” Max said, clicking the broadcast button again. “Helllllllooooooo Indianaaaaaaaaa!”

  “That’s better.”

  They waited before broadcasting again, hoping somebody out there heard Max. But there was nothing, and it appeared they were alone.

  “That’s disappointing,” Travis said.

  “Don’t lose hope. We’ve only been at it for a few minutes. If anyone is out there, we’ll find them.”

  Dan finished tying off one end of the tripwire, twisting the thin metal several times over itself. Cliff used his good arm to test the tensile strength, pressing down lightly with his hand.

  “That’s pretty tight,” he said. “Maybe we should hang some metal plates or something from it. They’ll make noise if anyone runs into the wire.”

  Drew came over with a handful of metal utensils tied together with wire to form a giant, clanking mass. “We’ll hang these over each wire,” he said.

  “Perfect,” Dan said, stepping away to view his handiwork. “There’s only one spot that’s still open. I hope Eric comes back that way. Toni, too.”

  “I’m sure they’ll see the wires.”

  A shotgun blast startled them and they all froze.

  “Must have found something,” Drew said. “I hope so anyway.”

  There was a cracking sound behind them, and they turned to see a few wailing corpses stumbling toward them. They were both male, dressed in hunting garb, and looked like they had been dead a long time. One of them was missing half of its face. The other had no pants on.

  “What the hell?” Dan said. “He must have been taking a shit when it happened.”

  “Either that or there was some Brokeback Mountain shit going on,” Cliff said.

  Dan and Cliff drew their blades and casually walked toward the dead. The creatures raised their arms and began growling as they approached. Dan side-stepped and jabbed his knife into his target’s skull. Cliff kicked the other in the back of the knee and stabbed it in the back of the head as it went down.

  “Damn it,” Dan said. “I was hoping this area was clear. If there’s two of them, there must be more.”

  “I hope Eric stabbed the old guy in the head before he buried him,” Drew said. “Otherwise, we might have another.”

  “Probably not necessary,” Dan said. “He shot himself in the head through his chin. It was .22 Magnum but that would have shredded his brain.”

  “That’s weird,” Cliff said, looking down at his target. “There’s a knife in this one’s neck.”

  Dan and Drew gathered around the corpse as Cliff pulled the knife out. It was a nice, dagger-like weapon; probably costing a pretty penny. It had a black leather grip and a sturdy steel double-edged blade. Cliff flipped it over in his hand, making a face of approval.

  “It’s well-balanced,” he said. “I bet somebody misses this. The corpse’s blood is still liquid, too. I bet this dude was stabbed pretty recently.”

  “That means there’s somebody nearby,” Dan said. “If so, I hope they’re friendly.”

  “Well,” Cliff said, wiping the blade off and standing. “I hope they don’t want their knife back. It’s mine now.”

  Chapter Three

  Dan and Cliff sat on the porch after the big meal. Everyone was stuffed on deer tenderloins, corn, and mashed potatoes. It had been a long time since any of them had eaten a home cooked
meal, and they finished every last morsel. Travis and Max continued to play with the radio, and everyone else rested comfortably inside around the fireplace.

  Dan felt at peace as he sat in the padded porch chair. He settled back, looking at the darkening woods around the house. It was quiet, breezy, with a little bit of a chill, and it felt good. He and Cliff sipped their beers as they relaxed, enjoying the evening.

  “So,” Dan said. “You and Grace got a little thing going?”

  Cliff chuckled slyly. “Maybe,” he said. “She’s a good girl, and I think she shoots pretty well.”

  “She’s getting pretty good,” Dan agreed. “She’s like Drew, though. She’ll probably get even better once she finds her favored rifle.”

  “Drew likes the Glocks, don’t he?”

  “Yep,” Dan replied.

  “Where did you guys meet, anyway?”

  Dan sighed as he thought back. “I got a shit job at a winery in Bloomington and he was the bar manager at the time.”

  “Really,” Cliff said, laughing. “So he was your boss, then?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Man, I always hated that. Having a boss all young and shit.”

  “Well, he was alright. Not all bossy. We got along, so we kind of became buds.”

  Cliff settled back, taking another sip of his beer. “I remember when I was over in Iraq. I made sergeant at twenty-nine. We got assigned this squad leader who was a lieutenant at twenty-two.”

  “Wow,” Dan said. “That young?”

  “Yeah, he graduated from West Point, so he became an officer. But that boy was as green as they come.”

  “So you had to follow the orders of someone who didn’t really know shit?”

  “Pretty much,” Cliff said. “It was rough at first. We basically trained him in the field. He was cool about it. He wasn’t a coward or anything, he was just clueless. He earned his bars, though.”

  “How’s that?”

  “There was an insurgent attack near Mosul while we were there refueling. He took a bullet in the shoulder but kept on fighting. Another guy got shot, and old L.T. ran out in the middle of the shit and dragged his ass back to safety.”