by Olah, Jeff
“You’re welcome. Wait…for what? Why are you thanking me?” Sean asked.
“For that big brain of yours. You knew all along that we shouldn’t have gone in there and I’m sorry for putting you in that situation. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Sean didn’t know what to say, he simply stared at her as she maneuvered the truck around the stalled vehicles and through the mess that used to be their city.
“You were right,” Megan said. “Your plan worked. You just saved our lives.”
130
The map her father put together must have been done in the last few moments before he called. The landmarks were somewhat recognizable, although too few of them and they were obviously not to scale. She would have been guessing her way through a majority of the route, had she not already been familiar with the area. The dirt and gravel road they now traversed tore a straight line out of the devastated city streets which Megan and her brother narrowly escaped earlier this morning. Bisecting the county, their path moved north into the rural backcountry she only discovered months ago as a source of the freshest farmers market within a hundred miles. Today was different. Strawberry stands no longer dotted the path and the usual line of cars waiting to get their hands on the fresh produce was non-existent. They hadn’t seen a soul since leaving the city and turning onto this road over two hours before.
The mile long trail of billowing dust slowly drifted away from the rear of the truck as they moved along the desolate landscape. From its apex, the sun fought to tear its way through the grey sky as the severity of their situation began to weigh on her. While moving through the crowded city streets, her senses were heightened and she reacted with each new threat. The fear coursing through every inch of her body was the only reason they’d made it this far. Driving the deserted dirt road, her brother gazing out of the passenger window into the eastern sky, the knot in Megan’s stomach began to constrict. Two hundred yards ahead a black sedan sat at the edge of the road, hood raised and traces of translucent white plumes wafted into the atmosphere.
As she approached and pulled to within thirty feet of the stalled vehicle, Sean finally noticed the truck starting to slow. “What’s this?”
“Don’t know, but we’re not taking any chances,” Megan said.
Shifting into park, she opened her window and honked the horn twice, waiting for someone to emerge from behind the open hood. Ten seconds and nothing changed. Her gut told her to put the truck back into drive, and speed past the black sedan without looking back and catch the main highway two miles ahead. Cutting a look over at her brother, desperately searching for an answer, it appeared he had the same idea.
“Megan, we should probably just go.”
Nearly a full thirty seconds after signaling their presence, the six foot bearded farmer, clad in the requisite overalls and checkerboard red and black flannel leaned out from behind the car. There was no evidence that this man was even aware of what took place in the world that day. Pausing for a moment, his smile appeared genuine as he waved them over and disappeared back under the hood of the sedan.
“Sean, stay here,” Megan said as she checked her weapon. “I’m not sure what this this guy is doing, but I don’t really want to try to pass him before checking it out. I’ll make sure he isn’t up to anything funny and then we’ll get going.” Megan opened her door and stepped out. Sliding the pistol between her waistband and the small of her back, she stretched away the stiffness. Sitting behind the wheel for the last few hours navigating the city streets and now this back road had taken its toll.
In obvious disagreement, Sean shook his head. "Megan, are you serious? I don't think this is a good idea… at all."
Without offering a response or even turning to face her younger brother, she moved forward. The truck still idling and the door she emerged from still open, Megan stomped hard against the pot-hole laden dirt road, announcing her approach. One hand firmly at her side ready to retrieve the weapon at moment’s notice, she rounded the front of the black sedan.
Hunched over the motor, swatting away the residual smoke, he lifted the shotgun sitting on the left quarter panel and held it eighteen inches from her torso before she had a chance to react. The darkness that befell his eyes became evident at this distance. His smile remained, although now twisting into a menacing smirk. No signs this middle-aged man had run into the horrors that obliterated much of humanity, he was fresh from the day, except for the grime that tattooed his hands much the same as the average garage mechanic.
"Sir, I'm just trying to get to the other side of the city and didn't mean you any..."
"Shut up,” he said. “Little lady what gave you the impression that traveling this road would be any easier than going all the way around?”
“We just…” Megan stammered.
“Especially today.”
“You know about what’s happening out there?” Megan followed.
“Why wouldn’t I… you really think that the city is the only area that gets cable TV or the internet?”
With the barrel shoved hard into her stomach, she backed into the road as he used one final push to force her to the ground. She skidded sideways onto her shoulder as the gun from her waistband slid to the right. She reached for it, although he moved in one second ahead of her and placed the forefoot of his boot atop the pistol before she was able to grasp it.
“Get up! If you want to live another five minutes, you need to listen to me.”
Megan fought the urge to take action. If this man wasn’t holding the shotgun, she was absolutely sure he’d be the one on his knees begging for mercy. She was less frightened than she was angry. If he wanted to kill her, he would have already done it. She’d have her chance at him and just needed to watch for an opening… it would come sooner or later.
Stepping out of the passenger side quietly, Sean assumed he hadn’t been noticed. His hands quivered uncontrollably as he clutched the handgun, sighted the unknown man standing above his sister and moved carefully toward them.
The shotgun now trained on Megan, their assailant called out to Sean. “Son… do not take another step. Lay the gun in the road and get back in the truck. I will give you three seconds before I kill her.”
“Sean,” Megan called out. “He’s bluffing; he would have already killed me if that was what he wanted to do... Shoot him.”
The man standing only twenty feet from Sean did not look up. He reached down and picked up her weapon, pumped the shotgun once and laid it against Megan’s temple. “Boy, your friend here is going to die and her blood is going to be on your hands. Do as I say. This is your last chance.”
“SEAN DO NOT LISTEN TO HIM!”
He had no chance of hitting the man at this distance and even if he did his sister would probably die in the process. His chances were better if he was able to speak to the man and convince him to let her go. What could he want from them? Megan was right; if he was going to kill them he’d have already done so, although the risk was too great. Sean needed to let this man think he had the upper hand. Sean was much smarter than him and he’d use that to resolve this situation.
“Yes sir… just please don’t hurt her.” Sean kept his eyes locked on the man as he set the pistol in the dirt and walked back the short distance to the truck, jumped in and closed the door. He watched as his sister was pulled by the hair to her feet and marched back to the truck.
The man stopped at the driver’s door and spoke directly to Megan. “Get in the back. If you try anything… I mean anything; I’ll kill the kid here. I know you think I’m bluffing as you’ve already mentioned, but I can guarantee you that I am not. For your sake I hope you don’t make me show you how wrong you really are.” He leaned his weapon against the door and pushed Megan toward the rear of the truck; she climbed in and sat behind the cab watching for the man’s next move.
Sean turned back to see his sister’s eyes dart rapidly between him and the man as he climbed in behind the wheel. Megan tried to warn him, but sh
e was too late. The much larger man struck her brother in the side of the head with the stock of the shotgun, rendering him unconscious shortly before his body crumpled to the floorboard below.
131
She said nothing and made quiet observations as to their whereabouts as they proceeded another half mile along the road, hoping but never seeing another vehicle before the truck turned right into the private drive. Overgrown shrubbery and sparsely placed trees lined the quarter mile stretch from the main road leading to the single story ranch style home fifty feet from where he pulled the truck to a stop. Three additional vehicles stood silently between the house and where their attacker exited the truck.
Leaning in the truck bed, he reached over and grabbed Megan's throat, pulling her toward him. "I'm taking your friend somewhere safe. If you leave the back of this truck, if you move one inch, I'll go back and kill him. There is no one for twenty miles in any direction. Stay put... OK?"
At this point it didn't really matter what he knew about the two of them and from what she knew about kidnappings, the more familiar they were the better. "He's my brother, his name is Sean. I'm Megan. Please don't hurt him anymore... Please."
"You think that's gonna work? You are dumber than you look. I don't care what either of your names are. In just a few days you won't care either." He moved back to the cab, pulled Sean's limp body out through the driver’s door, leaned forward and hoisted the boy onto his left shoulder. Retrieving the shotgun with his free hand, he turned from Megan and began walking toward the house. "If you’re not here when I return, the things I'll do to your brother will be nothing compared to what happens when I catch up to you."
Megan stood in the bed of the truck as the man who moments ago posed no threat to them and who she contemplated passing on the dirt road marched around the side of the home. Regret wouldn't help now, especially with him having the upper hand. She reminded herself to stay calm and wait for him to slip up. Megan had never seriously hurt anyone in anger before today; although she feared she’d have to if she wanted to see the sun rise again tomorrow morning.
On his return, she could charge him and if the proximity were close enough, he may not get a shot off. Megan was more than comfortable in her abilities and if given the chance she’d relish the opportunity to make this man little more than a memory in their rearview mirror. With her brother taken away unconscious and the extent of his injuries unknown, she scanned the expansive grounds for any signs of who this man might be.
Another vehicle, a late model pickup most likely used for the daily grind of the farm, sat nearest the home. Swatches of burnt orange rust and thick layers of bondo dotted the dilapidated body as it sat firmly entrenched in the soil. The underbrush riding up between the wheels and the frame, along with two flat tires, told her it hadn’t been driven in quite some time. Days or more likely weeks or months.
The two remaining cars sitting to the right of the pickup, a newer model SUV and a sedan that looked much more out of place. On her tiptoes and craning her neck to look past the much larger SUV, Megan was able make out the details of the sedan. She quickly lowered herself back into the bed of the truck not only in anticipation of their adversary returning, but also for fear of what might have taken place on this farm in the hours before they arrived. The black and white patrol car sat in the shadow provided by the much larger SUV. Megan noticed the tire tracks running from where it stood now and down the main drive. The trail was fresh, made today and most likely within the last few hours. Law enforcement had arrived ahead of them. Were they still here? If so, why hadn’t they come to help?
Slowly beginning to stand once again, she was startled to see that he had returned. “Well, I must say that you’ve actually surprised me. I thought for sure you’d have run off before I made it back. Maybe I had you pegged all wrong. Maybe you won’t be a problem.”
Pointing over the man’s left shoulder, Megan took him to task. “Sir, why are the police here?”
“OK, I guess I was right about you.” Stepping back a few paces he motioned to her with the shotgun. “Get out and stand right there.”
The man who’d brought them here was dressed the part, although his face, other than the wiry beard offered nothing to indicate that he was a farmer. The overalls and flannel were a bit too snug for someone who’d been working for the better part of each day. The boots that protruded from the high rise denim he wore also feigned a lack of authenticity. No more than a few bumps and bruises, they appeared to have seen less action than the dubious grin splashed across his face.
Megan strode to the left side of the truck and hopped over the side, landing hard on the densely packed gravel drive below. “Where’s my brother?”
“He’s safe, you’ll be joining him soon enough.”
“What’s your name? Who are you? What do you want?”
“Knowing my name would mean nothing to you.”
Moving in toward him as he walked backward one deliberate step at a time, attempting to maintain the ten foot buffer, she peered into his eyes. He stared back now, noticing the gradual quickening of her pace. Before they reached the black and white cruiser, he stopped. "You want to come closer? Well then, come here!" He lunged forward grasping a handful of her tussled blond hair and pulled her into him. "Is this what you wanted?"
It was.
He was wearing cologne, expensive cologne. He wasn't a farmer. He didn't belong here... not on this property, not anywhere near this part of town. Megan wasn't any less afraid of him with this new discovery, although she was now just as curious.
Who was he?
Why was he here?
What did he want?
Pushing away in a halfhearted attempt to feign a struggle, Megan watched for a reaction. "HEEEEEEEEEELLLPPP… PLEASE HEEELLPP!!" she shouted.
He stepped back, still clutching her hair and dragged her around to the front of the patrol car, slamming Megan face first onto the hood.
The wrecked windshield offered no protection, as the two officers were ambushed while attempting to exit their vehicle. The severely damaged bodies were riddled with fresh buckshot as they succumbed to their massive injuries and found their final resting place. The younger patrolman positioned in the passenger seat managed to kick his door open and had the heel of his right boot squarely placed on the ground below. His partner didn’t make it quite as far and was still buckled to the seat with the radio in his right hand.
“There they are,” he said. “Go on… ask them to help.”
Megan fought against his one hundred pound advantage, only to be yanked backward by the collar and pulled to the rear of the house. Shoving her to her knees, he unlocked the cellar doors and pushed her down the flight of wooded stairs. Megan felt every inch of the thirteen steps as her body twisted and turned with each drop in elevation, finally coming to rest in the darkened cellar five feet from her unconscious brother.
The reinforced security doors thundered shut from above, and what little sunlight managed its way through the gap, was instantly suppressed.
132
He woke as the final slivers of sunlight moving through the locked cellar doors faded and darkness enveloped the makeshift basement. Sean had trouble recalling any of the details since leaving the train station. Vague images swimming in the back of his head told him they’d been attacked, although the details were much more grim than he’d been able to recall. His sister ran through their ordeal to leave the city and the massive horde that they encountered as she attempted to follow her father’s instructions step by step. Trapped in the truck on multiple occasions, Megan reminded him of the alternate route they’d taken to get to the dirt road and what they’d seen before stopping to check out the stranded motorist.
The only memory Sean’s mind completely blocked and one that his sister wished could also be removed from her brain was of the family they’d driven past, unable to help as a massive horde descended out of an office building and the family of four ran from their aggressors attempting to flag do
wn Megan as she also fought to stay ahead of the closing Feeders. She stopped the truck multiple times, although the crowd reached the family before she could and the only action that would keep the two of them alive was to move out of the area. The petrified look on the family’s faces as they were overcome had already begun to haunt her every thought.
The cellar now silent as night fell over the area, Megan and Sean huddled near the bottom of the staircase. Their captor hadn’t returned since tossing the two of them down into this hole hours earlier and Megan was intent on finding a way out. She used what light was spared them during the day to get a general layout of their surroundings. With no obvious way out and the only window to the outside world barred, she became content for the time being to tend to her brother. He fought her the entire time, although Megan was able to get him to allow her to lay him on the floor below, the only source of water available and clean his wound.
“How’s your head?” she asked.
“Worst headache ever, what are we going to do?”
“Don’t know yet. Maybe he’s gone, maybe he ran into a group of those things and they got the better of him.”
“A group of Feeders?” Sean asked.
“Yeah,” Megan said. “It doesn’t really matter though, he’s not here now.”
“So what ARE we going to do?”
“I’ll figure something out. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”
“Really? We can barely see each other. How do you know I even need cleaning up and anyways, shouldn’t we be a little more concerned with getting out of here before he gets back?”
“Let’s get some fluids in you and then I’ll find a way to get us out of here.”
