Fallen Earth | Book 1 | Remnants

by Morrow, Jason D.

  Leland scanned each face, looking for Gwen. This wasn’t how everything was supposed to go down. Leland knew they had to act before Gwen was brought out or it would all be over. His plan with the McClures had failed. His attempt at intimidating Savage had fallen flat.

  The moment Gwen was brought out, Leland would have to run for it. Savage wouldn’t want to kill her without Leland seeing it. The further he could be from her, the safer she would be. He swore silently at himself for coming here. It was a stupid idea and he should have known it. He never anticipated they would bring out all the townsfolk. Now, they were completely defeated. Leland had been Hope’s last defense.

  He still hadn’t seen Gwen yet.

  “You are surrounded by guns on the hill,” Leland said as he tried to look at each person in the eye as he scanned the large group in front of him. They looked tired. They looked beaten. “But you’re also surrounded by people in the streets.”

  Savage watched him then shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “I haven’t asked much of Hope over the last few years,” Leland said, “but I’m asking you now. I’m asking you to fight.”

  Leland pulled his gun from its holster. He still hadn’t seen Gwen, though he was glad for that, since seeing her would put her in danger.

  “Fight!” he repeated. Then he pointed his pistol at the nearest prisoner and let off four rounds, two of them hitting him in the chest and throwing him back. The man next to him, Ray Huddleston, a banker, knelt down and picked up the gun the inmate had dropped. He looked at the gun in his hands for a moment, then turned and fired on another inmate.

  That was all it took. Hope had had enough. Anyone who was able attacked, and the streets were in mayhem.

  Leland ducked and charged down an alley to his left, out of sight from Savage. That alone would keep his daughter safe. Somehow, he had to get to her. He had to catch Savage by surprise. That was his only chance.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  As soon as the gunfire started, Alex took off. As he ran through the chaos, he looked everywhere for his parents, desperately hoping to get them into one of the houses and away from the fighting. But with so much screaming, gunfire, and people running in every direction, it was impossible to know where they might have gone. He made his way to the library, hoping they might have ducked back in there once the fighting started.

  Alex found himself beside an inmate firing his rifle at some target in the distance. The inmate hadn’t noticed Alex standing over him, but once he did it was already too late. Alex punched the prisoner in the side of the face and snatched the gun from him. He then used the butt of the rifle like a club and slammed it against the back of the inmate’s head, knocking him out cold.

  He charged through the doors of the library and stopped in his tracks when he saw a prisoner guarding Gwen—they were the only other people in the library.

  The inmate yelled and took two shots at Alex, but Gwen reached up and grabbed the man’s rifle, forcing the shots into the ceiling. Alex immediately charged him and they tackled the man to the ground. He slammed the butt of the rifle into this man’s head, too, only this time it took two hits to knock him out.

  Alex looked around him. Everyone was gone because they had been forced out. He looked across the room and saw a couple of bathrooms, wondering if they had windows to the outside. If they did, he and Gwen could possibly sneak out. Gunshots popped in the streets, and bullets ricocheted off buildings with loud echoes that could likely be heard from Lone Oak.

  Through the glass, Alex saw a group of inmates making their way toward the library, and after just a glimpse, he saw Savage among them. They were coming to get Gwen.

  This was it for both of them. Alex would no longer be of any use to Savage. Gwen would be taken to be slaughtered in front of her father. Savage didn’t expect to survive this encounter. Alex grabbed Gwen’s shoulder and she looked him in the eyes.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  The two of them glanced back at the doors, then ran. Alex led her to the other side of the library. They had seconds to get to the bathroom.

  They shoved the door open and scanned the bathroom for a window opening. Gwen was already making her way to the stall with a window above it. She climbed onto the toilet and grabbed the crank latch, then she turned it until the window extended enough for her to crawl through it. She looked back at Alex and he nodded at her, encouraging her to climb.

  Screams came from inside the library. Savage had just realized Gwen was gone.

  “Go!” Alex said.

  Gwen pushed through the window opening, then fell to the ground outside. Alex followed after her and was almost through the window when the bathroom door burst open.

  “Get him!” one of the inmates shouted.

  The opening was tight and Alex only had his shoulders through when he felt hands grab his feet and pull him downward.

  For only a second he saw Gwen, who looked back at him in terror.

  “Go!” he said again, then he was pulled down. He crashed through the stall door and onto the tile in front of a group of guards.

  Savage stood over him, his eyes wide, his jaw trembling.

  “Where is she?”

  “Out of the library,” Alex said. Fear struck Alex like it hadn’t before. This time, he knew he wasn’t going to survive.

  Savage swore, lifted his pistol, and struck Alex in the side of the head.

  Alex’s vision went black and he could feel blood trickle down his face as he lay on the tile. In a daze, he expected to feel kicks and punches as the rest of the prisoners finished him off, but none of that came.

  When he opened his eyes, he was the only one in the bathroom. Catching Gwen had been more important than dealing with Alex.

  He sat up, his back against the wall, and wiped the blood from the side of his face. His head was tender, but he would be fine. For a moment, he wondered if he should just stay in the bathroom. It was probably the safest place in the town at the moment.

  No. He wasn’t here to be safe. He wasn’t here to be the lone survivor. He needed to find his parents. He needed to help the people of this town. He didn’t live here, but these were his prisoners. They had broken out of the prison he was supposed to guard. In some measure, he felt a weight on his shoulders, as though their escape was his responsibility.

  In a brief thought, he cursed Roger for trying to save the warden. If the prisoners had never broken into the key room at the prison, they may have never taken Hope. They would more than likely still be stuck within the gates. In part, Alex blamed himself. If he had seen all this coming, he would have done what it took to stop Roger. He should have known the dangers of all the prisoners getting out. And what was happening in Hope only accounted for fifty of the hundreds who had escaped. Was this going on in other nearby towns?

  Alex pulled himself up from the tile floor and walked out into the main floor of the library. Then he got to the glass doors. Weaponless, he pushed a door open and went out into the streets. One way or another, he would do as much as he could to make things right.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Henry’s jumpsuit was a blessing and a curse, though now he sort of wished he had swapped it for the hoodie and jeans. He hadn’t expected the townsfolk to rise up and fight like they did, but now he appeared as much of an enemy as the rest of inmates. And he couldn’t find Leland or Gwen to help him. The McClures, who were in the woods sniping men in jumpsuits probably couldn’t distinguish Henry from other inmates either.

  Henry ducked beside a building, breathing deeply as he watched the battle unfold around him. Being seen by the wrong person would get him killed. Staying put would probably get him killed. At the very least, having the jumpsuit kept him from being shot by one of the many prisoners who carried guns. They, just like the townsfolk, thought Henry was on their side.

  If he wanted the citizens to see him as on their side, he had to show them.

  Henry closed his eyes and breathed three time
s through his nose. Gunfire all around him faded into echoes, screams blended together. This would all be over soon.

  He opened his eyes and jumped forward with a shout. For the moment, he had the slight advantage that most citizens didn’t have a weapon on them, so when they saw a charging prisoner with a shotgun in his hands, they ran from him like chickens running from a dog. But Henry ignored them, running past them, no doubt adding to their confusion. Then he came up to a group of prisoners who were picking off people one by one with their rifles. Henry pumped, then shot, pumped then shot, forcing himself to look at their bodies as the group of inmates fell to the ground, holes the size of fists in their backs.

  Five of them were dead within just a few seconds. Henry looked back at the scattered citizens he had run through and they stared at him with wide eyes. None of them wanted to see this. None of them had ever experienced this kind of violence. Even in prison, Henry hadn’t been subject to war-like scenarios.

  There would be time to contemplate his actions later if he survived. He charged ahead and shot two more inmates in the back—men who thought he was on their side when they glanced at him, then focused back on unarmed people. As he killed them, he forced himself to remember that most of these prisoners were animals—that they were picking off weaponless citizens of Hope one-by-one.

  Henry charged for another group, unloaded on the first two, then he was out of shells. Two of the prisoners looked up at him in horror, thinking they were about to die before realizing Henry was out of ammo. He screamed and flipped the gun in his hands, until he was holding it like a baseball bat, ignoring the searing heat of the barrel, and jumped at them swinging.

  He hit the first man in the face, throwing him backward, but the other one tackled Henry to the ground and pounded him in the face. Henry’s arms flailed at his sides, reaching for anything to use against his larger enemy. His fingers found a small rock, which was big enough for him to smash the front of the inmate’s teeth. The man fell back, giving Henry enough time to reach for one of the rifles on the ground, turn it on the two of them, and fire.

  Now bullets were coming his way. He had made a show of his loyalties, and now the prisoners knew there was a traitor among them. He ducked and grabbed as many weapons as he could find scattered along the ground, then hid behind a building where a group of citizens huddled together, shaking and scared.

  At first, they didn’t seem to know what Henry was going to do, but they were relieved when he started passing out guns.

  “I’m working with your sheriff,” Henry said. “I have to tell you, the guy is determined.”

  “Why are you helping us?” one of them asked.

  Henry thought for a moment, then looked toward Main Street. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  He left them and scurried behind another building with a rifle slung over his shoulder and a pistol in his hand. He was coming up on the library where most of the prisoners had been just a few moments ago. He was a target now, and he had to be careful. When he stopped at the corner and looked around it, he could see Main Street clearly.

  The prisoner numbers had dwindled, in no small part because of Henry, but there were plenty of bodies in the streets without prison clothes. Too many. This town didn’t deserve the punishment it had received. This was the kind of thing that would never be forgotten—a war story told at dinner parties by grandchildren who hadn’t lived through it, who could barely believe this was real.

  Henry saw a group of about twelve prisoners huddled together taking potshots at citizens running through the streets. He didn’t think he had enough ammo to take all of them out, or at least he wouldn’t be able to switch guns if he attacked them. He watched only for a second and noticed that most of the citizens were just trying to get away. Most of them were not trying to fight. Some ran into their houses, while others fought prisoners hand-to-hand, if only to try and escape. There were still a handful of people actively fighting the prisoners. Those were the ones who had picked up guns off the ground from already dead inmates.

  Henry knew if he charged for the twelve, they would turn on him and fill him full of bullets. But what choice did he have? If he took even a few of them down, it would save the lives of several people. And if he somehow miraculously killed all twelve of them, that would be a huge chunk out of the fifty that had taken over the town. The people were already winning this battle. The prisoners were already losing. With these twelve gone, the inmates would be overwhelmed.

  Henry knew he had to do the right thing. So many times in his life he hadn’t, and what had it served him? What would the stories tell if he remained here and didn’t try to save these people? What would the stories tell if he ran off into the woods never to be found again?

  Henry closed his eyes one more time and took a deep breath. Maybe this attempt wouldn’t kill him. Maybe he would be able to take all of them out. Or maybe some of them would run away in fear.

  Just as he was about to jump forward, he heard a noise behind him. He swung his pistol around and pointed it at the figure running toward him. He almost let off a shot before he realized who it was. The man in the prison guard uniform stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide, as he hadn’t realized Henry was standing there. Then his face relaxed when he realized who was pointing a gun at him.

  Henry waited a moment, then let his shoulders relax. He let his pistol hand fall to his side, then he grabbed the rifle slung over his shoulder and tossed it to the prison guard. The man caught it and checked it for ammo.

  “If we can take out this group, the main fight will be over,” Henry said.

  The prison guard looked over Henry’s shoulder, then nodded at him. “Then let’s get to it.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Gwen couldn’t find her father anywhere, but she didn’t stick around to join in the fight. She was free of this place. She was free of Savage. All she had to do was keep running and they would never find her. But her dad thought she was there, captured among the other hostages. Only a minute ago that had been true, and she had been helped by the prison guard out of the library. For a moment, she wondered if the man was still alive or if they had killed him immediately.

  She didn’t have time to mourn him, or even think about the death overtaking the town.

  All she could think was that her father was in there looking for her, and he would probably die because of it. Of course, her getting caught and killed would defeat the purpose of him coming here at all. Her dad would have wanted her to get away. He wouldn’t care that he was inside the town looking for her, desperately searching for any sign of his daughter even to his detriment. If she had a way out, he would want her to take it. That’s why she knew she should keep running. That’s why she didn’t turn back to find him. In the chaos, he had accomplished his goal. He had given her an opening to escape. If she didn’t take that opening, then everything her father fought for today would be worthless.

  She spent several minutes rooted to her spot. Part of her hoped that if she just stayed there, her dad would find her. He would pick her up in his arms like a little child and carry her away to safety.

  She had stayed in the spot for too long.

  The gunfire around the town was overwhelming. Screams and shouts from both sides echoed in her head. She wanted them to go away. She wanted to be far away from this place. But it wasn’t like she could just hop into a car and drive. She wasn’t out of danger even if she ran into the woods to hide. So, she did the only thing she knew to do and ran home.

  When she got to the house, she found the lot outside empty. She looked back at the town, though all she could see was her road and trees. She shouldn’t have left. She felt the gun in her hoodie and thought about how selfish she was for coming back here. Those people needed help and were dying. What could she be doing to save them?

  No, this was about regrouping. If her father came to the house, she would be here to meet him. And with her safe, he would have a clear head about how to proceed. He had come to save her. T
o go out now and die would make his fight meaningless.

  She walked up to the front door and twisted the knob. When it opened, a figure stood in the doorway, a gun in his hands, and a smirk on his face.

  Gwen’s blood drained from her face and she felt her knees go limp. Savage grabbed her by the hair, yanked her inside the house, and slammed the door shut.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  With every shot, every cry for help, Leland felt a stab in his gut. Every bit of this was his fault—Savage getting back at him little-by-little until he had the ultimate revenge: killing his daughter.

  The streets were full of people fighting or scrambling to safety, but he hadn’t seen his daughter anywhere. The sheriff even went inside the library, only to find it empty. The problem was since Leland had taken off down an alley, he hadn’t seen Savage either.

  None of this had gone like Leland had planned. The people of Hope had risen in the bravest way, but Leland had expected more of a standoff. Now, he was on the hunt again. The fact that he couldn’t find Gwen or Savage made him sick with worry. His heart pounded in his ears, and sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His sheriff’s uniform was wet at the armpits and back. The air nipped at his ears and the end of his nose but he felt hot. Fear mixed with anger, causing a tremor in his arm that traveled all the way down to his fingertips.

  This was the worst time to be nervous. Gwen needed him to be strong. Unwavering. She needed him to be everything he had never been for her.