Fallen Earth | Book 1 | Remnants

by Morrow, Jason D.

  Next, he made his way to his room. Everything seemed to be as he had left it. What was interesting to him was that the house was in perfect order for the most part. He would have expected the criminals to have ransacked the place. It felt too clean, too normal. He stood next to his bed then pulled up his mattress and found that his pistol was gone. This was either a good thing or a bad thing. A good thing if Gwen had taken it to protect herself. A bad thing if one of the prisoners had taken it. He really liked that gun.

  When he turned around he saw Henry standing in the doorway of the room, and he shook his head at the fugitive.

  “Any idea where she might’ve gone?” Henry asked.

  The sheriff shook his head, his eyes traveling to the floor. That was the part that bothered him the most. Sure, Gwen may have gotten out of the house whenever she realized there was trouble, but that still didn’t mean she was safe.

  “She might’ve gone to the office,“ he said. “That’s not a good thing.”

  “Wouldn’t she have been able to lock herself in there?“

  “If Savage is the one behind this, then that is one of the first places he would have looked. And judging how all of these prisoners are armed, then there is a good bet that they hit up the office whenever they got here.“

  “What does that have to do with anything?“

  “I have a lot of guns stored there,“ Leland said. “It’s possible they found the code to the safes, but it scares me to death that they might have forced Gwen to tell them.”

  “Are you sure those are your guns? Those could be from the prison.“

  “I didn’t get a good look at them,“ Leland said. “If they happen to be all pretty much the same kind of guns, then my bet is that they got them from the prison. But if it is an assortment, a lot of collector-type guns, then that means they broke into the safes. Either way, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I find Gwen.”

  The two of them froze in their spots when they heard the front door open. The squeak of the hinges was like a warning call to them, screaming for them to flee out the back window or to take cover and hope they weren’t found. Leland swore under his breath and ducked behind his dresser while Henry darted for the bathroom across the hall.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gwen and Mitchell casually moved out of the library entrance. There were other inmates, some of them next to the glass doors, but none of them paid Gwen and Mitchel any attention. They didn’t know her from the rest of the townsfolk and there had been so much movement in the night, they didn’t question whether or not one of their friends should be taking a girl out of the library and toward a row of houses just two blocks away. Gwen looked at the mailboxes, then made sure of the address.

  As they made their way to the front door, her heart started pounding so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else. What was she thinking? Mitchell was the kind of person who didn’t care about her. He would get what he wanted and kill her. Except, he would never get what he wanted. Not while Gwen was alive.

  She was putting herself at risk and for what? Miss Morgan? Her symptoms of missing her medicine seemed exacerbated by the stress of being held captive. That made sense, of course, considering it was a heart condition, but was the woman in enough danger for Gwen to risk her own life? She shook her head, remembering how poorly Miss Morgan had looked. It was more than just missing her medicine, though if she got it she would probably survive the day.

  They reached the front door and Gwen opened it slowly. She first called out, “Hello?” then started toward the living room and kitchen. She took note of every detail of the layout and noted the bedroom down the hall and the bathroom where she needed to be.

  “We need to be quick about this,” Mitchell said. He held a rifle in his hands awkwardly. “I don’t want anyone realizing we are gone.”

  “They won’t,” she assured him. “I just need to make sure I can find the medicine.”

  She went down the hall and into the bathroom and he followed her closely, not giving her the chance to have a moment to herself—not allowing her to formulate a plan of action. She didn’t know what she was doing. She had lured Mitchell to the house with her, getting the two of them alone, but she was not about to go through with whatever he had playing out in his mind.

  She found the bottle of medicine on the shelf next to the mirror and stuffed it into her hoodie pocket. Her fingers grazed the metal knife and she let them linger. Mitchell was behind her now, close enough for her to feel his breath on the back of her neck. He still held the rifle in his hands, but Gwen didn’t think he would have a chance to use it, not in this close space.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  Gwen froze. This was the moment. This was the reason he had agreed to bring her out here in the first place—the subtle promise of something more, something he had been missing for years. Gwen turned slowly, the close quarters forcing her chest against his arms. He dropped the rifle to the ground and grabbed her shoulders with both hands. His hot breath reeked and her stomach churned as he kissed her neck. She reached both hands into her hoodie pocket and pushed her head against his chest as though to press herself longingly against him. Her fingers worked in the large pocket to unfold the knife.

  Mitchell didn’t notice the clicking noise as the knife locked into place. She pulled her left hand out of the pocket and rubbed up against his arm and chest until her fingers clutched the side of his face, rigid as though she was trying to hold herself back from wanting him too much. Her right hand fell to her side, clutching the knife by the handle.

  Mitchell noticed the desire. He noticed her holding back. He smiled and shook his head. “Give me whatever you got, baby.”

  Gwen looked him in the eyes, swallowed, then with her right hand she stabbed the knife into the side of his neck.

  Mitchell’s mouth gaped open with a gurgling noise. Gwen held the knife in his neck for a moment, staring at his bulging eyes. She didn’t feel anger or a sense of urgency, rather a moment of shock at what she had just done. She took a deep breath, and with a scream, she slashed the knife out and shoved Mitchell to the floor.

  She rushed out of the bathroom, trying to ignore the gurgling sounds of a dying man gasping for air.

  Gwen’s fingers trembled as she opened the drawer next to the bed in the master bedroom. She could hear Mitchel writhing on the floor,, then his movements began to ease. She closed her eyes until the noise stopped.

  She tried to suppress the revulsion of what she had just done. She had to push it from her mind.

  When she looked down at the drawer she found the gun Miss Morgan had told her about. Small. Perfect for hiding in her hoodie. She checked the magazine, then stuffed it into her oversized pocket next to the bottle of medicine.

  She didn’t look into the bathroom as she walked by it. When she got to the front door, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She wasn’t a killer, but that had seemed too easy, too callous.

  She leaned to the side, threw up, wiped her face, then left the house.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Henry immediately wanted to kick himself for going to the bathroom when he should have just stayed in the bedroom.

  The thought came too late. It occurred to him as he was getting into the shower and closing the shower curtain around him, that a prisoner might be coming into the house to take a pee. The person walked down the hallway, then pushed open the bathroom door, and turned on the light. Henry held his breath, not daring to let it out of his lungs.

  The trickle of urine into the toilet bowl seemed to last for ten minutes as Henry waited there, desperate for the prisoner to leave. It wasn’t that he was afraid of a fight, but he certainly didn’t want to attract the others and be surrounded by guns. He may have had a jumpsuit on under his hoodie and jeans, but that wouldn’t save him now.

  Worse still, Henry didn’t have a gun. He was pretty sure Leland would jump in and try to help him if a fight did start, but would it be enough? He didn’t know what kin
d of gun this prisoner had in his hands. He had heard the clanking noise of the gun being set somewhere in the bathroom, and then he heard the noise of the man picking it back up. It seemed heavy, like a rifle or a shotgun, so if he lunged out of the shower he might have a chance before the man could swing his gun around. But if it was a pistol, the man could be quick or even accidentally fire it and kill him.

  The man stood in front of the mirror for an unusually long time, or at least it felt that way. He didn’t wash his hands. Henry could hear him breathing. For a moment, he wondered if the man had heard him or at least sensed him in the same room and was too petrified to take action. Or the man was simply staring at himself in the mirror.

  Finally, the man-made his way out of the bathroom, back up the hallway, to the screeching front door, and then closed it behind him. Henry let out a sigh of relief, his heart pounding, his head swimming from holding his breath for so long. He crept out into the hallway and back into Leland’s room where the sheriff was standing next to the bed, his eyes darting back-and-forth until finally resting on Henry.

  “We need to get out of here,“ the sheriff said.

  “Just what I was thinking.“

  Leland held up a finger and went to the other side of the room and grabbed a pair of binoculars from his closet. Then the two of them slowly went back the way they had come, being sure to keep their eyes on the windows toward the front, counting the men outside. One. Two. Three. Four. Henry wanted to go to one of the windows and try to listen in on their conversation, to at least get an idea of what was going on in the town. If they were going to get any information before trying to simply storm the town, he was going to have to take off the hoodie, take off the pants, and join the rest of them in his jumpsuit. He didn’t know if the sheriff trusted him to do this kind of a task, but it really wasn’t up to Leland. The sheriff had taken his handcuffs off, and had in so many words declared him a free man. It hadn’t been the law. It hadn’t been his right. But regardless of what the law said or what the rights of a prisoner were, Henry was free to do what he wished. And for some reason, he wanted to help this man. He still didn’t know what it was, whether it was the need to prove that he wasn’t a terrible person despite the jumpsuit he wore, or if it was simply because of his inability to turn away from someone in need. He thought maybe it was a little bit of both.

  Leland opened the side door and motioned for Henry to follow him. Together they snaked through the side yard and made their way back up the hill and into the woods. Henry could hardly keep up with Leland.

  In his panic to get up the hill, Henry’s foot snagged a tree root and he went tumbling to the ground. His body thudded against the ground, causing him to cough in pain and gasp for air.

  The pain subsided, however, when he looked up to see Leland’s wide eyes staring past him. Henry didn’t want to look back. He didn’t want to see what Leland saw. But he had a feeling he already knew what he would find.

  When he turned his head, he saw each of the prisoners who had been guarding the house looking up into the woods until they spotted them. Then, they opened fire.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The shots came without warning, immediately causing chaos within the town. Alex watched as inmates jumped to action and as Savage began shouting orders like some general in an important battle.

  Alex was still near the grocery store, constantly watching the townsfolk, scanning their faces as they were dragged to the library. He hadn’t seen his parents yet—for that he was grateful. That didn’t mean they weren’t hostages among the crowd, but if they recognized Alex, he was a dead man. Their best chance of survival was to remain hidden and to keep their heads low.

  His best chance of survival was to speak only when spoken to, and speak the truth. He had already screwed that up, however. At the time, he didn’t know that lying about his parents would be the justification Savage would need to kill him, but he understood it now.

  The shots continued to echo loudly in the distance.

  There was something inside Alex that told him the shots were aimed at the sheriff. But surely the other prisoners knew they shouldn’t be trying to kill the man. Whoever killed him would certainly meet the same end. The sheriff was the only reason any of them were here. The sheriff was the prize for Savage. There was nothing else. No other purpose.

  Alex sat tight as he was left with only one guard, while others made their way toward the shots.

  Alex hoped this was their salvation. More than the sheriff, he hoped this was an entire SWAT team, unloading on anyone with a prison jumpsuit. If that were the case, this would all be over soon and Alex could go home. His parents would be safe.

  But the shooting didn’t sound like there was an entire SWAT team nearby. The shots were too infrequent. Too sporadic.

  It sounded like just one man trying to take on a bunch of prisoners.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The four prisoners that had been guarding Leland’s house were in the woods now. Henry sat huddled behind a tree, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

  Leland knew he should have tossed the kid a gun, but there hadn’t been time. Once the prisoners had spotted Leland and Henry, they took off back into the woods.

  From this vantage point, Leland could see three of the prisoners coming up the hill. They were too far off for him to aim effectively. If he wanted them dead, he was going to have to wait until they got closer.

  Henry, who sat with his back against a large trunk, watched Leland who stood just up the hill from him. Leland shook his head, hoping Henry knew to stay put. Leland was a good shot, but he didn’t want to have to avoid hitting Henry.

  Henry had a rock in his hands and he gripped it tight, but Leland shook his head again. Don’t do anything stupid, he thought.

  Leland stuck with his pistol, though he kept his shotgun close to him. With three of the prisoners in view, he knew he had to keep a watch for the fourth. It was possible he was giving them a wide berth in order to circle around them and come up from behind, but these woods weren’t so dense that Leland wouldn’t be able to see them coming.

  The prisoners, who probably didn’t know these woods, didn’t realize their disadvantage. Running uphill in woods Leland knew well was only going to get them killed. Still, Leland would have to make this quick if he and Henry were going to survive. They had limited ammunition and if a large number of prisoners came after them, it wouldn’t matter how well Leland knew the woods.

  Leland squatted low and held his pistol too tightly. He cursed Henry for his carelessness which caught the attention of the inmates. If only he could have watched his steps. This not only put them in danger, it possibly put Gwen in danger, too.

  Leland searched in every direction for the fourth inmate. Gunshots sounded from the lower part of the woods, and tree bark split into pieces above his head. He ducked in response. They knew where he was, but they hadn’t seen Henry yet. Henry didn’t have a gun, but he might distract them just long enough for Leland to get off a number of shots. As it stood, bullets pelted the side of the tree, pinning Leland to the trunk. Whether they realized it or not, the inmates had a pretty good strategy. Three of them kept Leland pinned to the tree, while another one circled around until he had a good shot. The firing ceased for only a moment, and Leland popped his head out from the side. He saw all three of them, and they were much closer than before, almost on top of Henry.

  Leland grabbed his shotgun, then pumped it. With a deep breath, he peeked out from the side of the tree which brought on another flurry of bullets in his direction. Henry was watching him, waiting for him to do something. Leland didn’t know if what he was about to do was stupid, but he was pinned down and couldn’t move. In one quick motion, he grabbed the barrel of the shotgun, moved out from the side of the tree, and flung the gun to Henry. The shotgun landed at Henry’s feet, and Leland watched long enough to see the confusion on the other prisoners’ faces.

  Henry took no time grabbing th
e gun, jumping out from behind the tree, and firing off a round into the nearest inmate, throwing the man five feet backward. He pumped the shotgun and let off a round into another inmate, then jumped behind the tree before the last one could shoot him. But Leland was already out from the other side of the tree and fired three shots into the third prisoner.

  In less than three seconds, Leland heard the rustling of leaves behind him and immediately dropped to the ground. Shots went off behind him but missed. Henry had a full view of the fourth prisoner and shot him with the shotgun.

  Leland looked up from the ground, first at the prisoner behind him who lay motionless, then at the other three prisoners who also didn’t move. Then he looked up at Henry who stood above him, with the shotgun in his hands.

  “Are you okay?“ Henry asked him.

  Leland nodded, then brushed dirt and leaves off of his pants.

  “We need to get going,“ Leland said.

  They could hear voices in the town, someone giving frantic orders. Near the edge of the woods, Leland could see inmates making their way toward them. If they left now, they would have a chance of getting away.

  Henry held out the shotgun, offering it back to Leland.

  Leland shook his head, which seemed to surprise the kid. “You hold on to it. Come on, let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Leland had a worried look on his face, and Henry knew there was a lot going on in his brain at the moment. His daughter wasn’t safe. His town wasn’t safe. Friends and family were all in danger, and now the prisoners who had taken over the town knew there was someone in the woods.

  Even if Leland could get the family of misfits to help him take on these prisoners, it would be a bloodbath. People would die, and the town would never be the same again. Although, Henry didn’t think the town would ever be the same again anyway after the power outage. This was no small thing. If he had to bet his life, he would guess that everyone from Hope, Wisconsin all the way to Chicago was experiencing the same thing.