by S T Branton
“Hell, yeah!” Dan whooped.
Brax actually laughed, leaning back against the wall of the teepee. “All right,” he said. “You’re crazy for a human, but that’s not too bad.”
Chapter Fifteen
The last night we spent in the Delaware Water Gap camp was freezing-ass cold. The air was heavy with moisture that crept into everything I owned. In the morning, I kept myself warm by loading up our two trucks, lashing down the payloads, and double-checking to make sure everything had been accounted for.
The group had already made a sizeable dent in the food we’d scavenged, and that made me nervous. I pushed the feeling down and concentrated on the positive. We were finally moving the hell on from this place.
The woods had served us as well as they could, I supposed, but I was still glad to put the clearing behind us.
The trucks bookended our ragtag procession—me and Luis at the front, and Deacon and Jules at the back. A set of long-distance walkie-talkies scrounged from the supply store kept us in communication.
“Which one of us is Eagle One?” I joked, pulling out of the clearing onto the rough track winding through the trees.
“If I say that’s me, what does that make you?” Deacon chuckled to himself. “Vendetta? Ladybird?” He paused. “Eagle Two?”
Luis and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. “Now I know why you’re not in the Secret Service,” I said.
In the passenger seat beside me, the kid smirked broadly.
“Oh, come on,” the agent protested. The radio crackled mildly. “The Secret Service doesn’t even do codenames anyway. There’s an agency for that.”
“Yeah, and I’m guessing you’re not a part of that either.” I glanced at my companion, and his smirk widened into a full-blown grin. He made a good co-pilot. The kid knew how to handle a gun, and he laughed at my jokes. What else could I ask for?
The highway leading west from the Water Gap was empty, dotted with the abandoned carcasses of other vehicles. Some of the ramps were still clogged, even though all the cars were empty now. I could only imagine what the roads had looked like on the first few days after the gods arrived.
Luis gazed out the window. His dark eyes betrayed no trace of emotion. “How many of those drivers are dead now, do you think?” he asked flatly. Then he sighed and shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say shit like that.”
“Nope,” I said. “We need to focus on the people who we can still save, not on the ones we couldn’t.”
One of his hands reached up to clasp the beaded rosary hanging loosely around his neck. “I know you’re right, but I keep thinking about my grandma.”
I nodded. “Well, sure. That’s understandable.”
“I have to honor her memory, you know? Every damn day because I’m alive instead of her.” Seconds passed while he thought about that, and he shook his head slowly like he tried to banish the thought.
“Listen, worrying about the people who have died isn’t helpful,” I said. “Whoever is left alive to mourn them when this is all over can do so. But remembering your grandmother can be helpful.”
He frowned. “How? It makes me feel like shit that I couldn’t save her.”
I shook my head. “You said it yourself. You can honor her memory, and the best way to do that is by staying alive. And killing as many of these asshole gods as we can. It won’t bring her back, but it will bring her justice.”
He nodded thoughtfully and looked out the window again. For a long time after that, the only sounds were the growl of the truck’s engine and the deep hum of the tires on the pavement. Another traveler’s sunrise bloomed over the horizon at our backs.
“Seriously, how are you doing?” I asked at last, breaking the spell of quiet that had settled into the cab.
Luis turned his head to look at me. “I’m hanging in there, and I’m ready for whatever comes next.”
I smiled at him. “That’s good. Better than most of the people in our group.”
He nodded. “Let me know if you want me to drive at any point.”
“You old enough to have a license?” I teased.
He gave me an incredulous look. “For real? Hell yeah, I got a license. Driving’s one of the only things I ever did by the book. Not that it matters anymore, right? I don’t think any cops will pull us over out here. Not anymore, anyway.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that’s one of the few perks of the apocalypse. We have to appreciate silver linings whenever we can.”
At normal speed, the drive between the Water Gap and the Poconos should have taken less than an hour. Because we were shepherding a herd of freezing, exhausted pedestrians along with us, the journey took a hell of a lot longer. More than once, we had to stop and let those on foot take a rest on the highway, though never for too long. I half expected more zombies to pop out at any moment.
Or something worse.
Maya came to the side of my truck on the last break and leaned in the window. “We’re not too far away now,” she said, gesturing in a westerly direction. “All we’ve got are, like, old gas station maps, but they say we’re near where that group was headed. Most of the maps have something marked around here, even if it’s not explicitly labeled.” She indicated a point on a large, well-worn paper creased with fold lines. Our target was an unidentified rectangle nestled deep in the mountain range. “Dan says this looks right. I’ll defer to his military experience.”
“Does that mean you trust him?” I examined her face as I asked.
“Yeah, why not?” She looked at me a little funny. “He’s helped us out the whole way.” Her expression turned resolute. “Vic, I’m all for vetting our associates as much as possible, but there has to be a line somewhere. He and his men have proven themselves enough by now.”
“No, I know.” I backpedaled out of that line of questioning fast. “I’m simply trying to make sure we’re all on the same page.”
Maya pursed her lips. “Dan and that other guy still aren’t getting along, huh?”
“The other guy’s name is Brax,” I said. “And, no. Not as far as I can tell. Has he said anything to you about how it’s going?” I kept an eye out behind her for either one of the men in case they happened to saunter past the vehicle.
“Nope.” She raised an eyebrow. “All I know is that they never look too happy to see each other.”
“Cool.” I sighed. “Awesome.”
I turned the key and glanced at the empty seat next to me. Luis made a habit of getting out at every stop to check on the crowd. He had last reported a significant drop in morale. I assumed I’d get a similar report when he came back again.
“People are starting to think we’re gonna die on the road,” he’d told me grimly. “The last camp didn’t really cut it for them in terms of feeling like…well, like we’re out of the woods. We gotta get somewhere with real beds and shit—that’s what they want.”
I glanced at Maya. “If you see Luis, can you tell him it’s time to roll out? Things will get better once we get where we’re going, I think. I hope, anyway.”
She nodded. “Sure.” As she turned to leave, she stopped and peered back at me. “Hey, Vic? I want you to know I think you’re doing great.” She left before I could thank her.
I must agree with Maya’s sentiment, Victoria. You may not always feel like a leader, but you have stepped admirably into the role.
“I appreciate that,” I said. “Now, let’s hope this move pays off the way we want it to.”
Two minutes later, Luis hopped into his seat, and I eased the truck back onto the road, watching in the mirrors for the refugees to follow.
Dan was the one who pointed out the graveled path into the brush. It wound between two perimeter markers, which he studied for a moment before nodding and telling me to proceed. He fell back to confer with his infantrymen, and I radioed Deacon. “Don’t quote me on this, but I think we made it.”
“Yeah.” His voice held an undercurrent of apprehension. �
�I’m not breaking out the champagne just yet.”
“Me neither.” All I could see was a tangled growth of trees and plants, with a passage hollowed out of the middle. The place felt ominous. I didn’t get a welcoming vibe at all. Although if this was previously a secret military base, I doubted they wanted people strolling up to their gates.
“Marcus,” I said. “In your professional opinion, what are the odds that this is another trap?”
Greater than zero, he admitted. That being said, I do not sense anything overtly strange in the vicinity. Make of that brief assessment what you will.
My foot pressed the gas pedal, and the truck crept forward. Entering the claustrophobic tunnel of greenery reminded me of a car wash. Leaves and branches scraped the windows, blanketing us with soft shadows, and a hush descended outside the vehicle. The human figures trudging behind the bumper blurred in the dimming light.
“Where do you think we’ll come out?” I asked, mostly to defuse the nervous tension in the truck. “Narnia?”
“If I see Mr. Tumnus, I’ll put a fucking bullet between his eyes,” Luis responded.
I laughed in surprise. “What? Why?”
“Because the last goat man I saw tried to kill me.” He had his eyes fixed forward, his hands gripping the stock of his gun. “I’m not about to trust anything with hooves.”
Point taken. I made the judicious decision to shut the hell up, at least until I knew what was going on. The overgrown tunnel continued for fifty more yards before it opened onto a much cleaner, more normal path. We’d gone from secret passage to country road in the space of a few feet. The transition was jarring.
Luis saw it first. “Okay, I take it back,” he said, his voice flat with irony and tinged with a kernel of dark amusement. “Narnia would be a hell of a lot better than this shit.”
I stepped on the brake. “Holy shit.”
The building rising in front of us out of the thick, misty Poconos morning looked like a structure created for one thing—containment.
It did not look like our new home sweet home.
Chapter Sixteen
Seven of us stood in a cluster beside the trucks, gazing up at the austere majesty of what Dan told us was called Fort Sigel. A massive double fence encircled the entire perimeter, topped by menacing loops of razor wire. “Are we absolutely sure this is a fort?” I asked. “Because I can’t help feeling like we’re about to turn ourselves in.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Luis agreed. “This place looks like a fucking prison. I’ll take a wet tent over jail any day.”
I was inclined to agree, but Dan stepped forward and held his hands up, turning to face us. “Whoa there,” he said. “Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet. As far as I’m concerned, this looks pretty normal and considering the circumstances, I’d be more worried if they didn’t have a shit ton of defenses in place.” We must have still seemed incredibly skeptical because he hastened to add, “Trust me. The military decks their important places out like this all the time. We’re looking at high-security secret stuff, remember.”
Soldiers work in mysterious ways, Victoria. This stronghold looks very different to those I knew in my day, but his statement strikes a chord of truth. Have I not attempted to instill such a love for defense in you?
It made sense. I nodded. “All right. No use standing around with our jaws on the floor, then, is there?” Frank, Maya, and Jules turned to gather the group in a more orderly fashion, but I touched the Were’s arm. “Hey, can I ask you a favor? There’s a job that needs to get done, and you’re the best suited, hands down.”
“Sure, Vic.” She looked toward the refugees for a moment, then turned and gave me her usual, easygoing smile. “Anything I can do to help.”
Gesturing at the mountain forests grown in around the fort, I said, “Ever since the last supply run, I’ve thought about how there must be more survivors. Could you wolf out and do another search in the vicinity? Assuming we can gain entry here, I want to make sure we bring as many people with us as we can.”
“Absolutely,” Maya said. A determined light gleamed into her eye. “If there’s anyone out there, I’ll make sure I find them.”
I returned her smile. “Good. I know you will. I’ll send Luis with you for backup in case you run into any trouble. He looks like a kid, but he’s a pretty good shot and smart as hell. You’ll make a kick-ass team.”
She laughed. “Okay. In that case, let me snag a change of clothes first, and we’ll be off. You want me to do some recon while we’re out there? It couldn’t hurt to try and find out what the gods’ next move is, right? I mean, I doubt they’d leave their plans lying around, but you never know what I might find.”
Power—even godlike power—does not necessarily beget intelligence, Marcus quipped.
“I like that thinking,” I answered. “Round up everyone you can and report back to me, but if you do find people, be careful what risks you take. We can always do a separate scouting trip.”
“Right.” Maya scooted off to get extra clothes, and I went to inform Luis of his new assignment.
“Aye aye, Captain.” The kid snapped a salute and shouldered his gun. “Not gonna lie. I wasn’t too enthusiastic about getting trapped in that chunk off concrete anyway.” As he walked away to meet up with Maya, he called over his shoulder. “It’s a glorified prison, no matter what anyone says.”
I shook my head on my way to the others. His observations were at least visually accurate, and perhaps not totally unfounded, but the fort was the first place I’d seen in weeks that even looked safe from the outside. Right now, the potential for security was too valuable to pass up.
Our nomad company of refugees began to flow slowly toward the front of the fort, which was blocked by fence gates and flanked by spotlight-equipped watchtowers. The heavy door beyond the gates had uniformed guards on either side. Each held a rifle in their hands.
Whatever the intentions of its inhabitants, Fort Sigel meant business.
Brax stopped walking twenty yards from the first gate. When I looked at him, he scowled and turned from the guards. “Fuck this,” he said. “I’m not going in there.”
Veronica raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You knew we were coming here from the beginning, and now it’s suddenly a problem?” The strain of the journey showed clearly on her face. She was ready to fight.
He laughed coldly. “After all that time in Asphodel, there’s no way in hell I’ll live more of my life behind one fence, let alone two. I’ve stuck with you for longer than I might’ve expected, but this is where I get off the train.”
Veronica opened her mouth again, but I stopped her. “Don’t worry about it,” I said quietly. “It’s okay. He knows what he’s doing.” She rounded on me then, incredulous. “Trust me,” I told her. “It’ll be fine.”
She stared at me for a second longer, then heaved a sigh. “Fine. All right.”
Brax turned away. “It’s always been your mission, not mine,” he said. “The humans are on their own. Including you.” He paused. “Take care of yourself. It’s a wild world now.” The next thing I saw was his back as he headed out, leaving us all to stand there and watch him go.
Deacon chuckled. “Bye, Brax,” he muttered sarcastically. “We’ll miss you too.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I fixed my eyes straight ahead and kept them there. “Whatever he wants, it’s got nothing to do with me. We have no beef.”
It is true that I have yet to see a single cow, but I do not understand what that has to do with Abraxzael.
I sighed. “Let it go, Marcus. Let’s get this meet-and-greet over with, okay?”
The centurion grumbled but didn’t say anything more. With Deacon, Dan, and Veronica at my side, I approached the gates.
“Halt.” The guard on the left stepped forward, his rifle in hand, to scrutinize me from under the brim of his helmet. “Stay where you are. What’s your business here?”
“We’re a band of survivors seek
ing shelter,” I replied. I spread my arms to indicate the small colony shuffling behind me. “As you can see, we have a lot of families with us—children, elders, those in need of medical care.”
The guard craned his neck to see past me, staring at the crowd with unreadable eyes. He glanced at his colleague and back at me. “Where did you come from?” he asked tersely.
Honesty seemed like the best policy, especially since I couldn’t think of a decent lie. “New York City. We’re all fleeing the invasion.”
Okay, so maybe I wasn’t exactly fleeing it, per se, but they definitely were, and that meant the statement still scanned at, like, eighty percent truth. Maybe higher.
My buddy, the army guard, didn’t appear to buy it. Again, he examined us in all our pitiful glory with a critical eye, and he looked at his partner once more. The time, the second guy tilted his head to talk into the radio secured at his shoulder. I heard the static but not what he said.
“There’s an awful lot of you,” the first guard observed, using a tone that suggested he thought I might be involved in human trafficking instead of search and rescue. “How’d you manage to move so far with a group this big?”
I suppressed the urge to get snarky with him. “We’re survivors. We’ve gotten pretty good at it, I guess.”
His face showed no hint of expression, and after another few seconds, he stepped back from the gate. Static crackled across his radio channel.
Everyone waited.
Behind me, the refugees grew a little restless. They could see that things had stalled, and I heard them murmuring, but I made a point not to look back. It was too late to show any signs of uncertainty or weakness. If there was shit there, we’d already walked headlong into the pile.
The sliding clatter of industrial locking mechanisms filled the air. I braced myself as the door swung open to reveal a stout man whose ample belly strained against his impeccable uniform. He was unexpectedly jovial, already smiling widely. The iron set of his jaw and the ramrod-straight posture further denoted him as a superior officer.
