by L. T. Ryan
She walked over to the horse, never taking her eye or the pistol’s aim off of him. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
He bowed his back, looked up at her. “You are so gonna regret this.”
“Somehow, I doubt that, too.” Addison didn’t enjoy the exchange, or even what she had done to the man. But he’d brought it upon himself with how he had treated them. She couldn’t blame him, of course. It was the way of the world now. She surmised anyone who had lasted this long had learned to be weary of other survivors.
She threaded her left foot into the stirrup and hoisted herself up and over. The few moments she had her aim off the guy weren’t near enough for him to get to his feet and regain control of his rifle. She tugged the reins to the left. The horse made a quarter turn, and Addy pulled back.
The shrieks of the dead closed in.
The guy glanced around, sweat on his forehead, fear in his eyes.
For a moment, she felt bad about what they were doing, leaving him there, alone. But he would’ve done the same.
Rifle blasts thundered through the woods, silencing the afflicted.
He pushed up to his knees, got one foot on the ground. A smile formed as his dark eyebrows knit together.
“I promise you,” he said. “You’re gonna pay for this.”
Addy dug her heels into the horses’s ribs and they took off sprinting away. She looked back over her shoulder, over the top of Emma’s head, and saw the guy scrambling for his rifle. He was already on it, lifting it up to his shoulder, drawing aim on them. He had a shot, maybe not the best one possible, but he had it. She braced for impact, but it never came. Her head swung forward and back, taking in the terrain ahead and the last glimpses of the man they’d robbed.
She pushed the horse for a mile, at least. Maybe more. Time and distance were difficult enough to track without the adrenaline. They left the woods behind and stuck to a wide road for a short time, remaining off the pavement so the echo of the horse’s hooves wouldn’t give them away. Every couple hundred yards, she crossed the road, though. Figured if anyone was tracking them, it would be difficult to keep up that way. Asphalt kept no records of those who traveled on it.
Further along, she recognized the area they were in.
“We’re not far from Turk’s bunker.”
“Can we go there?” Emma asked. Addison thought she noticed a hint of hope in the girl’s voice, as though she imagined her father waiting for her.
“I think we should,” Addy said. “We could use some supplies after losing that bag in the pit. And Turk said there was a horse farm nearby. Maybe we can find that. Might be easier to make the trek on two horses.”
They reached the scorched fields atop the bunker a half-hour later. Addy stuck to the shadows of the woods and scanned the surrounding area. There hadn’t been a screech or howl in some time now. Perhaps the lingering smell of fire kept them away, even after time and rain had passed.
She turned her attention to the southeastern sky where black clouds piled up in the distance. A storm clung to the coast. Its winds wove through the trees, wresting the final dead leaves from the branches they clung to.
“I don’t like leaving the horse out here like this,” she said.
“Seems okay here, doesn’t it?” Emma said. “Peaceful.”
Addison pointed up at the clouds. “I think it has more to do with that than anything else. Too bad we can’t get her down the stairs.”
“You want to stay here?”
“If that storm’s as bad as I think it is.”
Emma ran her hand down the horse’s neck. “We can’t just leave her out here.”
Addison took a deep breath. The air felt thick and wet. “No, you’re right. We can’t. Let’s hurry and then start pushing west. Maybe we can find a house or something off the beaten path.”
They left the horse tied to a tree along the edge of the woods, leaving enough line for it to move about. Addison found the opening. She made Emma wait behind as she descended into the ground, her Glock leading the way. She had no fear of using the pistol should someone, or something, get in her way.
At the bottom, amid the soft red glow of emergency lighting, she called out, “Come down, it’s clear.”
Emma’s soft footsteps grew closer. The girl got behind Addy and hugged close to her body. “It’s creepy down here.”
“Keeps the dead away,” Addison joked.
Emma forced a laugh. “I hope you’re right.”
They reached the sealed door. Addison gave the handle a try. Locked. She pushed on the door. Didn’t move. She tugged on it. Same result.
“I thought he left it open,” she said. “After he came to get us.”
Emma shrugged. “It’s all a blur to me. After what happened….”
“I know.” Addison threaded her arm around the girl and pulled her close.
“I wish he were here.” Emma hung her head. “I miss my dad.”
“I got an idea,” Addy said. “Wait right here.”
She ran down the corridor and climbed the stairs and dropped to her knees in the soft patch of dead grasses and mud. The dampness seeped through the fabric covering her knees. She pulled the grass away and dug into the soil six inches or so to a point where it was especially damp. She scooped two large handfuls out of the ground and headed back to the sealed door.
“What are you doing?” Emma backed away to the wall at the sight of the dripping mud.
“Your dad,” she said, “he’s a pretty smart guy.”
Emma nodded and said nothing while her gaze remained fixed on the mud, which Addy had dumped onto the floor.
Addison shook out her hands. Mud splattered the wall. Some hit both of them in the face. Emma reacted as though an afflicted had spit on her.
“Come on,” Addy said. “I know your dad taught you how to live out here.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like mud thrown on me.”
Addison laughed. Perhaps the first pure laugh she’d had in a while.
“What are you going to do with that?” Emma said.
“Watch.”
Addison grabbed a handful and dipped her index and middle fingers of her opposite hand in it. Then she wrote on the door in large block letters: F-A-R-M.
Simple. Effective. And telling.
To anyone who came along, it described the scorched fields above them. But to Sean Ryder, should he ever reach this point, he’d know based on the people who had arrived here. Only one had strong ties to a farm, and that was Addison. And she’d told him enough about the farm and its location that he could find it.
“If—,” she stopped, cleared her throat. “When your dad gets here, he’s gonna see this, and he’ll know where you and I are.”
Emma blinked at the drying mud. A smiled formed. “He’ll know,” she said softly. “He’ll find us.”
They climbed the stairs. Diffused sunlight washed over them. Grey clouds swirled overhead.
Addison heard the horse neighing wildly.
And she froze at the gunshot that followed.
Twelve
Sean stared ahead, past Medrick’s lingering glare in the vanity mirror. He saw the first outlines of what appeared to be a settlement. A razor-wire-topped fence surrounded multiple grey buildings interconnected by covered walkways. Smoke rose from stacks above three of the buildings.
“Seen anything like this?” Medrick said.
The drive took no more than twenty minutes at low speeds. They weren’t but a mile or so from the highway. Sean had passed not too far from here a couple of days ago, had no idea what was hidden in the woods.
Had they spotted him then, and tracked him?
It was possible, but it didn’t make sense. They’d have come down on him sooner rather than waiting all night.
A man appeared behind the front gate. He threw up a half-salute, ran to the side, and began tugging on a chain which draped across the middle of the fence. The line tightened as he yanked arm over arm. The gate opened up wide enough for
the SUV to pull through.
Medrick’s window slid down. The man hurried over after securing the entrance. There was a tower about ten yards further down. A man armed with a rifle leaned over the ledge to sneak a peek into the vehicle.
“Anything happen while I was gone?” Medrick asked the sentry.
The man puffed his bottom lip out and shook his head. “Quiet here. Haven’t even seen any dead stragglers this morning.”
They pulled forward and drove to the left on a gravel road, past the first row of three buildings. There was a large, square structure behind them with high walls and a low-pitched corrugated steel roof. The side they were on had three tall roller doors, with regular doors set in between them. Windows were cut in fifteen feet or so off the ground, six of them. Behind the large building were three more, identical to the first three. A cracked concrete sidewalk ran the length between the outer buildings amid brown grass, dormant for the winter.
Parked near the corner of the lot were four green box trucks and six late-model sedans.
“Bet you folks are thinking you’ve died and gone to heaven,” Medrick said, wearing a shit-eating grin. “Am I right? Or am I right?”
“You been here since the beginning?” Sean said.
“Someone else was here. But they weren’t running things the right way. Change of management was deemed necessary.”
“What’s that mean? You came in and slaughtered them?”
Medrick turned in his seat. “Guy like you, I figure you’d know it doesn’t take killing everyone to make a point. Chop off the head, then replace it with your own.”
“These guys here, they come in with you? Or were they part of the previous group?”
Medrick stared at Sean for a few moments through narrowed eyes. “You ask a lot of questions.”
Sean shrugged and said nothing.
“Why is that? You thinking you want to take this place for yourself?”
“I got no intentions of sticking around here.”
“Where is it you think you’re going?”
Sean turned to the window and stared past the fence at an open field that led to a hill. “Somewhere else.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that, friend.” The SUV came to a stop and Medrick turned in his seat and opened his door.
The entrance to the nearest building opened up and two armed men dressed in black cargo pants and shirts with vests over them stepped outside and walked up to the SUV. They greeted Medrick in the same manner as the gate guard. He asked for a status update and was told not much had happened, things were peaceful inside.
Sean wondered if something had happened recently that left this guy on edge. Or was he always like that? It made sense to remain vigilant, even when protected from the afflicted the way they were here. Part of Sean hoped that everything back at the cabin was an act, meant to ruffle their feathers. A way of weeding people out. Would Medrick want to bring troublemakers back to a setup like this? Sean sure as hell wouldn’t.
Medrick walked toward the entrance and stopped short. He had a radio in his hand. He lifted it to his face and spoke, then waited for a response while staring back at the SUV. He must’ve got it when his head started bobbing up and down. A few seconds later he disappeared inside.
One of the guards opened up the side door. The man who’d held steadfast with the AR-15 backed out. He never took his aim off of them. If one acted up, Sean figured all of them, including the baby, were dead. This wasn’t the time to make a stand. Medrick would have slain them back at the cabin if he had wanted.
First thing that happened when Sean’s boots hit the ground was the man standing next to the passenger door grabbed him by his elbow. The second thing was the guy to his right whacked him across the back of the head with a nightstick.
He dropped to a knee. A warm trickle of blood dripped down his neck and settled into his collar. He placed his hand on the gravel, stopping his torso from collapsing.
“Get up, asshole,” the guy said.
Sean turned his head to the side and caught sight of the guy. Silver clouds raced past beyond him. The light that seeped through cast a bit of a halo around the man’s head. Or was that a result of a concussion?
The guy grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him along a few steps. Sean couldn’t get his feet under him. His hands slipped in the gravel and he went down, face-first. Sharp rocks smacked his right cheek, lips, chin.
Medrick popped back outside. He took a few steps forward, stopped, and said, “All right, that’s enough. Get them in. Separate the guys and put the woman in with the others.”
“What about the baby?” one of the men asked, as though the child remaining with his mother wasn’t something that would happen here.
Or maybe they hadn’t encountered it yet. There had to be children inside, though. Right?
“Stays with the mother,” Medrick said before heading back inside.
Sean took two steadying breaths, pushed off the ground, and got one foot under him. The world still shone a bit. His head felt a bit like when he got off an extended stay on a boat. He was rocking. His stomach churned. But he made it up without help and soon found a man on his elbow again.
“Just keep walking and don’t try anything,” the guy said. “You’ll make it in, no problem.”
The door they went through led to a stairwell landing. A solid brown door was next to the first step. They skipped the door and walked up a flight to another landing, which looked similar to the first, only it had a four-foot high window in place of the exit door. The group stopped here. One of the guards opened the door. But not everyone went through.
Beth and the baby were led away. She looked back at Leo, fighting off sobs until she passed the threshold. Then she let go. Leo looked like he was going to join in as the heavy door slammed shut. The sound echoed throughout the chamber like a shotgun blast.
“Climb,” a guard instructed.
Sean took the lead with a man on his heels. Leo struggled below. They were outnumbered by guys armed with rifles and pistols on their hips. The settlement’s security force. How many were there in total? They reached the third-floor landing and the man tugged Sean back. A moment later, Leo stood shoulder to shoulder with him. They both faced the door. The guy in front of it rapped his knuckles against the hunk of steel and stepped to the side and waited.
The door groaned open and a jolt of warm air encased Sean. He thought he caught the smell of coffee at first, but something foul overtook it. He couldn’t make it out. A cross between used gym towels and sewage, maybe.
The guard at the door spoke back and forth with an unseen woman. Out of the corner of his eye, Sean saw Leo glancing his way for a second or two at a time. Just stay quiet, Sean thought. He didn’t want any trouble right here. There was little chance he would make it out alive. Even the uncertainty of what waited behind that door wasn’t enough to persuade him to make his move now.
The first thing Sean noticed when the door opened was the stretch of overhead lights hanging from a high ceiling. They cast soft cones of yellow across a wide walkway. A fan whirred from overhead. Long strands of clumped dust wavered in the forced air blowing from the nearest vent.
The place had power, probably generated on site.
At that moment, as the guards prodded Sean and Leo to start moving to the door, Sean felt a wave of hope wash over him. Maybe these guys weren’t that bad. They had something good here, and because of that, they had to go to great lengths to vet newcomers.
The woman who worked the door had hurried ahead a dozen yards or so. She had her black hair pulled back in a ponytail and a green hat sat atop her head. A thick keyring dangled from one hand. Had to be forty keys on it, all bunched together along the bottom and climbing up the sides. She brought her hands up and worked through the keys until she found the one she was looking for. It slid into the lock on the door in front of her. She looked over at them. Her shaded, deep-set brown eyes made her gaze feel hollow.
She pushed the door
open and stepped back. Light seeped across the walkway, dominating the yellows cast down from the ceiling.
Leo lurched forward, stumbled and tripped over his feet. He hit the ground like he was sliding into second, face turned away, scrunched up. A man appeared from behind Sean. He walked up to Leo, bent over, grabbed the guy by the back of his collar, and dragged him along until Leo managed to get his feet under him. By the time he did that, they were in front of the room. The guy hauled Leo all the way up, and Sean saw his new travel companion’s eyes grow wide. He started to look back. His mouth hung open. He looked scared.
“What the hell? What are you doing to me?” Leo yelled.
The guard shoved him forward. Leo reached out with his hand, grabbing the door frame. The guard slammed the butt of his rifle on Leo’s outstretched fingers. The man howled in pain as the last of him slid out of sight.
Thirteen
“Who’s out there?” Emma shrunk back into the shadows until she bumped against the wall. Her eyes reflected the red lighting. The girl bit at her bottom lip. Two upper teeth still too large for her mouth glistened.
The ringing in Addison’s ear subsided and an overbearing silence following the gunshot set in. Who was out there? Would they start exploring the area, find the opening? No effort to conceal their descent into the bunker had been made. If whoever was up there decided to investigate the field, they’d stumble upon it.
“I’m gonna check,” she said.
Emma lunged forward and grabbed Addison’s forearm with both hands. “Don’t go, Addy.”
“It’ll be okay.”
“No, it won’t. If they find you, I’ll be stuck down here all alone.”
“And if they come down here, they’ll get both of us.” She placed her free hand over one of Emma’s. “I don’t want that to happen.”
“I’d rather be captured with you than wandering around alone.”
It wasn’t the fear of being taken, Addy realized. Emma was petrified of being alone in this world. If only Addy had remained on the boat with Turk. Emma would be there, too, safe and sound. This damned dream of finding her grandparent’s farm, finding them alive. She clung to it with every last shred of hope she had, and it was going to get her, and Emma, killed.
