This Land of Monsters

by Tim Gabrielle

  “Seeing how I hailed you, I think it’s common courtesy you identify yourself first,” said Sullivan.

  Stu poked his head in and saw that Sullivan was talking on the radio and left quickly and returned with Dianna and Meghan. They came in and sat around the table, waiting to be clued in on what was happening. Nash watched Melissa from where he was sitting. She looked happy as she watched the fire and laughed with some of the others that sat with her, right before Dianna zipped the tent flaps shut and lowered herself next to him.

  “Whatever this is, they don’t need to hear it,” she whispered to Nash. “Let them be happy, while they still can.”

  The radio squawked.

  “My name is Fletcher Crawford. Whom am I speaking with?”

  “Don’t tell him,” said Dianna, softly.

  “If this is who we think it is, he already knows everything about us,” Sullivan said. “I think it’s best we stay as honest as possible.” He squeezed the transmitter. “You’re speaking with Sullivan Grant.”

  “He’s close,” said Sullivan to the group. “His voice is crystal clear.” Each of them seemed to feel themselves shrink as they basked in the nervous energy bottled inside the war room. Sullivan squeezed the transmitter again. “What do you want from us, Mr. Crawford?”

  “Please, call me Fletcher. I get the sense that you’re a smart man, Sullivan. I assume you’ve already determined that I’m closer to your location than you’re probably comfortable with. Am I correct?” Sullivan sat silent with his finger on the transmit trigger but not squeezing it. “I want your allegiance. If I can’t have that, I want your lives. It’s that simple,” said the voice. He paused, silent as he held the transmitter. “Here’s how this is going to work. Tomorrow, at noon, all your people have the opportunity to join my family. All they have to do is walk out of your gates and make their way through the woods to the dirt road behind your camp. As long as they have something of value in tow, they’ll be welcomed into my family with open arms. For those of you not interested in that, we’ll be by later in the day to have a meet and greet.”

  The voice stopped and the radio returned to the static hum they’d listened to over the last month. Meghan got up from her seat and left the war room. She barely got the doors unzipped before she vomited onto the ground outside. Scott didn’t follow after her, but sat shell-shocked in his seat.

  “We’ll leave. You can have everything inside the fence,” said Sullivan as he tried not to sound like he was pleading. The voice didn’t respond for a few moments and each of them eagerly awaited the reply.

  “Any of your people try and venture off on their own will be killed on sight. Your people can live with me or die with you. Those are your options.”

  “Let’s meet and talk about this,” said Sullivan his knuckles ghost-white around the radio. “What’s your location?”

  They listened to the hum of the radio and waited for a response that would never come. They sat in silence for a half hour before Sullivan stood and slammed the radio onto the ground with a ferocious growl, which sent pieces of plastic and metal into the air.

  “We fight,” said Stu. “We’ve built something here, and we should defend it.”

  “That’s not our call to make, Stu. We have families here to worry about. We don’t know what we’re dealing with and I can’t lead us all blind into a fight we don’t know we can win.”

  “How can someone be so calculated?” asked Dianna. “It’s like we’re nothing but numbers to him.”

  “We have been incredibly lucky, hiding here in the woods and under the radar from everyone. I always knew it was a matter of time before we dealt with another group, but I never thought it would be like this. I never thought it would end like this.”

  “Who says it’s the end?” yelled Stu as he stood and slammed his fists onto the table. “Why are you giving up so easily?”

  “Look around, Stu,” said Sullivan, his voice weighted with sadness. “We aren’t ready for a battle. We’re a group filled with families, kids, and the elderly. I tend to think his offer is real.”

  “Why the hell would you believe him?” yelled Stu, louder than his original outburst. “He’s a lunatic!”

  “If he wanted us dead, he could’ve marched in here at night and killed us all,” said Nash. “He’s been watching us for a while. He knows what he’s dealing with and he’s calculated his odds. I’m with Sullivan on this one.” Stu sat down and fumed.

  “We can’t waste any time here. I’m going to go brief the group. Those that want to go will be encouraged to go. Those that want to stay and fight will be allowed to. It’s not my place to force anyone here to do anything either way. The Treefort was always about safety and freedom and I can’t provide either of those here any longer.”

  The group remained still as tears flowed from Dianna and Scott’s eyes. Nobody objected to Sullivan’s plan. They opened up the flaps of the war room and found Melissa hunched over Meghan, who sat on the ground with her arms wrapped around her knees. The others around camp watched in silence as the security team shuffled out of the war room.

  “If any of you know of people who are asleep, please go wake them and bring them to the fire,” said Sullivan loudly to the Fort. It was still early in the evening and most everyone was still awake, but still some people went to their RV and brought back a sleepy friend or family member. Melissa slid her hand into Nash’s as the two walked to the fire where Sullivan and the rest of the inhabitants had joined together.

  “I love all of you,” said Sullivan, his soft voice echoing across the silent Fort. The spaces in between his words were filled with nothing but the sounds of crickets and the aggressive crackling of the fire. He wiped tears from his eyes as he continued to speak. “The radio we found in Barry’s tent last month finally went live tonight and each of us has a very personal decision to make by morning.”

  Sullivan went on to explain the conversation he’d had with the stranger named Fletcher Crawford. He explained all the points that had been discussed in the war room and gave as much information as he possibly could before they made their decision. The group was immediately broken into two camps; those who were brought to tears and those who bubbled with anger.

  “We stay and fight! All of us!” said a man who sat at the edge of the fire. Many others stood and cheered in agreement, only to be met by Sullivan’s hands in the air to quiet them.

  “I urge you, please think past your emotions and make the best call for you and yours. Do not let loyalty to me, or to this place, cloud your judgment in anyway. Those who would like to leave, and I urge you all to take Fletcher up on his offer, will be given a package of goods to bring to his group. Your choice to leave the Fort will not be looked upon as abandonment or cowardice. This is about survival, and that is what I want for all of you. If there are any of you who wish to stay behind and fight, I will be here. If there is any chance that we can keep this place alive, I will be here to exploit it, but I do not in any way mean for any of you to follow me into this madness.”

  The group disbanded for the most part and returned to their RVs in tears to map out their decisions. The security team stayed around the fire and mulled over their own best course of action. Melissa stayed at Nash’s side and held his hand tightly while she leaned against him as she softly wept.

  “You’re leaving with the Fletcher group tomorrow,” said Sullivan to Dianna as she rested her head on his broad shoulder.

  “Like hell I am!” she said as she pushed away from him in shock.

  “The group leaving tomorrow is going to need someone to guide them and keep things steady with the transition. More importantly, I love you too much to have you here when the shit hits the fan.”

  Tears welled in her eyes upon the realization that he was right. She knew he couldn’t go to Fletcher; as the leader of the Treefort, he’d be killed on sight. They all knew that a man like Fletcher would never let another group’s leader live among his community, which made Sullivan’s decision to
stay behind and fight for the Treefort an easy one. Without question, Stu opted to stay behind and fight with Sullivan, as did Meghan and Scott.

  “I want the two of you to go,” said Sullivan to Nash and Melissa who sat quietly across the fire from him.

  “That’s not your decision to make,” said Melissa as Nash sat beside her in silence.

  “Melissa, I’m serious. People who stay behind will more than likely be killed. I think we all know this,” said Sullivan. The group nodded in solemn agreement. “It would be horribly irresponsible of me to allow the two of you to stay behind.”

  “I won’t allow it,” said Dianna. “I’ll drag the two of you out of here by your ears if I have to.”

  Nash and Melissa stood together, not saying a word as they turned and walked back to their RV in tears. They crawled into bed together, faces wet as they held each other long into the night.

  “They’re right. You know they’re right,” said Nash into the darkness.

  “I know,” she said softly as a fresh stream of tears flowed over her cheeks.

  Not a single member of the Fort slept that night. By dawn, everyone was outside their RVs as they cried and said their goodbyes. In total, about three quarters of the group inside the Fort decided to leave, Melissa and Nash included. Nash wanted nothing more than to have fought alongside Sullivan but he knew it would mean certain death. Fighting a battle against an unknown enemy wasn’t part of the silent promise he’d made Melissa.

  The food truck was left open for anyone who wanted to take from it, but it sat untouched all morning as people huddled together around the fire, scared of what was to come. The people who had chosen to stay and fight had taken to the armory and were fitted with weapons and riot gear. It was mostly single, younger men who volunteered to stay, hoping to stand against Fletcher’s men to save the Treefort.

  Sullivan and Dianna silently pieced together packages of goods for each person who left the Fort to bring with them, as per Fletcher’s deal. Everything, with the exception of the riot gear and weapons being used, was sent away.

  “There has to be another way,” whispered Dianna as she packed food into duffle bags and wept softly.

  “I wish there were. I spent the whole night thinking of what to do,” said Sullivan. He placed his bag down and grabbed her by her shoulders. “I will make it back to you. I’ll fight for as long as I can, but if things get rough, I will call for a retreat. This isn’t goodbye.”

  Dianna zipped up the final duffle bag as Sullivan pulled her in for a tight hug. They both knew that his words, as comforting as he had intended them to be, were only that; words. Sullivan went into the afternoon knowing that what he had built would fall, as well as himself and his group of fighters. It was the end, and with as much gusto as he could manage, he looked directly into his destiny and felt no fear for himself. Sullivan stood at the front gate and held Dianna while the rest of the people leaving crowded around to say their goodbyes. Sullivan kissed her softly and embraced her in his broad arms as her tears wet his beard.

  “I will always love you,” he whispered to her as he stared into her red and glassy eyes. He could have stared at her forever, but they let go and she made her way through the gate and allowed the others to say their goodbyes to him. Nash and Melissa were last to get to Sullivan, as the rest of the leaving party waited on the outside with Dianna. Melissa fell into his arms, and sobbed loudly onto his chest as he held her close. Nash looked on in sadness as tears welled in his own eyes as he watched. Stu, Scott, and Meghan stood with Nash, shell-shocked as they thought about the task at hand.

  Melissa let go of Sullivan without saying a word and walked through the gate as she continued to sob. Nash hugged Sullivan and both of them patted each other’s back hard as they embraced.

  “Thank you for everything,” said Nash as he tried not to be overly emotional.

  “You’ve a survivor, kid,” he said. “I know you’ll be okay.” They let go of each other and shook hands firmly. “Keep her safe,” he whispered.

  Nash nodded his head and allowed the tears to flow freely from his eyes as he left. Melissa fell into his arms and continued to cry as Sullivan stepped forward.

  “It’s been a pleasure knowing all of you. Stay safe and stay together. I know you’re all scared; I’m scared too. You’re all survivors though; make no mistake about that. I may have brought you here to the Fort, but you are all alive because of your own resilience.”

  With that, Sullivan shut the gate and disappeared into the Fort with the remainder of its inhabitants, readied to fight. The group made their way to the back end of the fence and disappeared into the woods, headed to the forest road to meet Fletcher Crawford. Dianna led the group from the front as Nash and Melissa walked in the rear, hand and hand as they marched in silence. Nash only looked back once to find the sentinels as they climbed onto the RVs, ready to begin their final post.

  The group made their way toward the creek, far away from the area where Nash had always seen Sammy. He actually found himself feeling sad that he was unable to see him one last time before he moved on. He imagined that Sammy would be killed by one of Fletcher’s men as they descended into the Fort, as well as the rest of their group that had been left behind. If Fletcher’s group were anything like Duncan, and he had a feeling they were, there wasn’t much that would make it out of the woods alive.

  They could tell their exodus from the woods was almost complete as the sound of engines idling registered in their ears.

  “Remember what Sullivan told us. We are survivors,” said Dianna as she turned to talk to the group briefly. “Do what he says and try to stay together. We’ll get through this.”

  They exited the trees and filed out onto the shoulder of the dirt road. The light from the afternoon sun was blinding as they laid eyes on two large, idling transport trucks. Three men stood on each of the trucks, holding rifles and grinning down at the group. Waiting in front of the two trucks was a black BMW, and two men in black suits and sunglasses were standing guard beside it. Spread out around the trucks were more men with guns, and a sharply dressed man leaned against the truck directly in front of them. He wasn’t tall, well under six feet, with thick, receding brown hair, brushed backward in a wispy style that revealed his broad forehead. A pair of expensive looking sunglasses sat on his face and hid his eyes from them as he watched them all spill out of the woods. He was slightly chubby, but athletic, and looked to be in his mid-forties. He was surprisingly clean and wore a dark blue golf shirt with a designer suit jacket over top, and jeans that ended at a pair of brown leather shoes.

  “Hello everyone,” said the man as Nash and Melissa stepped forward from the woods. He walked confidently and stood in front of the group with a friendly smile on his face. “My name is Fletcher Crawford. You’ve made the right decision today.”

  He placed his thumbs into his pockets and stood looking up and down the line of people as he sized them up one by one. He nodded his head as he moved down the line and made mental notes about everyone who stood in front of him. His eyes stopped at Nash at the end of the line as a frown crawled across his face.

  “I’m not going to stand here and try and convince you that I’m a nice guy. You’ve all made up your minds about me, and I guess that’s fair. You’ll see, in time, things aren’t so bad out here.” He walked forward to the middle of the group and used his hand in a chopping motion to divide the group in two. “I want this half of the group in that truck, and the other half in the other. I know it’s not going to be a comfortable ride, but we expected most of you would be joining us and couldn’t think of a better way to move you all at once.”

  The two groups made their way to their respective trucks, heads down in fear of what was to come. They all trusted they’d made the right decision, but as they were ushered into the back of dark transport trucks, they easily questioned themselves. Nash and Melissa stood still as the rest of their group moved toward the trucks. He watched as a man held his hand out to help Dianna
get into the back of her truck, which she quickly slapped away and took his place helping people into the back of the transport. Fletcher moved forward and stood in front of Nash and Melissa, sweet smelling cologne clogging their senses. It was impossible to deny that Fletcher Crawford had more charisma than he had use for.

  “I’ve been told what you do around here, kid,” he said, talking directly to Nash. “You’ll be an asset to our family, if you so choose. What’s your name?” Nash stood still, unwavering in his decision not to answer.

  “I’m guessing you already know,” Nash said finally, not breaking his gaze from Fletcher’s dark lenses.

  Fletcher smiled and took off his glasses to reveal a set of piercing blue eyes. “You’ll warm up. I suggest it happen sooner than later.” He shifted his gaze to Melissa and looked her right in the eyes. “Go ahead and get on the truck. We’ll be home shortly.”

  Nash walked with Melissa, his hand on the small of her back as they prepared to be the last two loaded. He could hear the sound of the other trucks’ sliding door slam shut as he helped Melissa into their transport. One of Fletcher’s men came around the truck as Nash was about to climb in, wearing a black ski mask over his face. The man tore off the mask in one fluid motion and Nash’s heart sank.

  “Buddy Boy!” yelled Duncan with a smile as he planted the butt of his gun against Nash’s head. He heard Melissa scream as he fell and landed on the dirty road before he blacked out.

  Chapter 18

  Sullivan locked the gate as the group departed. He did a quick check of all the weapons he had on him and made sure he was ready for whatever Fletcher Crawford had in store. He knew it would end today; but he wanted to make sure it ended for some of Fletcher’s men too. His rifle hung on his back, as usual, with knives secured to his boots and handguns on his belt. Strapped to his belt were four grenades that he’d kept since he had started the Fort. He caressed the metal, he knew the damage they caused, had seen it before. When he was originally stockpiling supplies he had hesitated about bringing these kinds of weapons into the Fort. He had never wanted to use them—had hoped he wouldn’t have to—but now was glad for their presence.