"Fifty...maybe sixty miles across."
Zak looks at him, brows furrowed.
"Look at it this way," Chris says, sliding his finger back down where it started. "We're here, in Carson's Crossing." His finger slides west and stops at a blue line that leads all the way north to the city. "This is the highway between here and Martinville. It's about five miles away. Martinville is another five miles further west." His finger slides over more. "That entire area is a bunch of smaller cities that make up one giant city. To go from one end of it to the other, you'd have to travel from here to Martinville, then beyond Martinville five more times to cover the same distance as this." His finger ends up back on the city toward the top of the map.
Zak's eyes widen in understanding. It wasn't the distance that surprised him; but the fact that the entire area was one giant city. He says, "It would take three...maybe four days to walk across and entire city?"
Chris nods.
A single word comes to Zak's lips. "Fuck."
Chris and Karen burst into laughter.
"What?" Zak asks.
"That's exactly what we said."
Part III
The Highwaymen
14
They're crazy, Zak thinks, as he's leaving Chris and Karen's place. Once Chris showed him how to read the map and what the symbols meant, he started to get a better understanding of their pending adventure—the time it takes just to reach the city is beyond imagining.
Adventure? More like a suicide mission. And for what? To hopefully get some answers to who Chris's father might have been? The reason for their trip was weak in Zak's eyes. He wonders if they are hiding something from him.
"Zachariah!"
The shout startles him. Heart fluttering, he turns, knowing the time had finally come. The Gatherers are here.
But not just the Gatherers. He knows that voice—that voice does not belong to a Gatherer. That voice belongs to the Highwaymen's top hunter, Elgin.
What the hell is Elgin doing here? Did he see where I came from? Doesn't matter, he doesn't know where I stay so one house is just as good as another. Just as long as he doesn't ask to go inside.
Zak turns, tries on a smile that is completely fake, and hopes that the hunter doesn't notice.
* * *
"There're here," Chris whispers in a panic. He kneels low and peeks out the window.
Karen joins him, stands over him. He reaches up and pulls her down.
"Get down," he says. "We can't let them see us."
She whispers, "What if they come back in here?" She grabs his arm, squeezes for emphasis. "He just left here."
He shushes her, puts his hand to the side of her head, and forces her to meet his eyes. "Baby, listen...we can't panic. If they start this way, we'll slide out the back door, head to the school, grab Pete, and get out of town."
"You think it'll come to that? We need to get provisions together too."
"I know, I know," he says, glancing back outside. Good, Zak is walking away.
"Can you see them?" Karen asks.
"No...and that's good. If I can see them, then they'd be able to see us." He nods toward the table. "Grab my backpack and put the binders in it. If we have to run, I don't want to leave anything behind."
She moves away, but he grabs her arm. She turns, and he kisses her. "Quietly," he whispers, then kisses her again.
She nods and moves to the table, grabbing everything he’d asked for as quickly as possible.
Outside, Zak has moved out of view, but Chris can still hear traces of conversation, so he knows the potential danger hasn't left. A few minutes later, the voices diminish until they are gone.
"I think we're in the clear."
"Are you sure?"
"Maybe."
"That's not very reassuring."
He turns to her, gives her a serious look. "I know you don't like it, but I want to see who they are and how they interact with Zak. Maybe I can pick up something useful for the future."
"Chris, don't. Please, don't"
"I wouldn't be doing it if I thought it might not be important."
The way her eyes drop tell him she's accepted his decision. She doesn't like it, but she knows she can't stop him.
"I'll be okay," he says, trying to instill confidence. "I'll tell you what, if there are too many of them, I'll turn around and come back. I just want to see if there's anything distinguishing about them. When we leave, we will run into other people...the odds we don't are slim. And when we do, I hope we see them from a distance. If there's any way to identify them, then that'll help us decide whether to approach them.
"Now, here's what I want you to do. I'm positive they saw Zak leave this house. As far as they know, this is Zak's house and if they come back, they'll probably come back here."
"But didn't Zak say they never came here, that they always met at the old store to pick up the supplies?"
"Yes...but something's changed. They came here today."
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"Go to Zak's house and lie low until I get back." He points across the street. "That big red number six on the front door would deter anyone from coming in. I think you'll be safe there."
"Are you sure?"
He nods. "I'll help you carry our stuff over, that way, if they come back here, there'll be no trace of us."
"Try not to be gone long, okay?"
"I promise...now, let's get our stuff and get out of here."
* * *
The shock, like rivers of icy, spread throughout Zak's body as he turns and sees Elgin for the first time in more than a year. To say the man, and the hunters with him, have changed, is an understatement. No longer thin and lean like when Zak last saw him, Elgin's body mass has increased considerably. He scans the two others that are standing out in the open. He recognizes them too, and they have also gone through some sort of physical transformation. They appear to have been eating more, but instead of building muscle mass, the extra food has gone to their waist.
They were not overweight by any means, they just looked...Zak had to think of the right words and so far, it's eluding him.
Then it hits him—they are out of proportion. Like they are eating well, but whatever they are eating isn't digesting—or even passing through their bodies.
Zak walks toward him, noting other changes in the man. These were cosmetic changes, not physical changes. The most noticeable was the black stains all over his face and chest. The stains slashed across the skin like paint. While Elgin's patterns angled from the shoulders and pointed toward his chest, the others had a myriad of patterns drawn on their bodies. Some with swirling patterns, others with a mixture of the two, while still another of the Highwaymen went with patterns of only handprints.
"Ah, my young Zachariah."
"Elgin," Zak says in greeting. He stops in front of the painted man and looks him up and down. "What's with all the body paint?"
"We're at war, my young friend."
"Oh?" Zak asks, genuinely curious. "With whom?"
"Another clan. They refuse to...uh...see our way of things."
Zak notices the pause. Whoever the clan was, they weren't the first to not see things their way. Zak knows all too well—he's one of them. However, his abilities to provide has set him apart, and he's pretty much been left alone—as long as he continues to provide.
"So, is this where you live?" Elgin asks, pointing the tip of his spear toward the house Zak had just exited.
His heart skips a beat. Is this a test? If he answers no, will Elgin want to know why he was in there? If yes, then will he want to investigate too? Zak can't deny coming from the house—they were there, they had to see him.
"Yeah, it is," Zak says, calling Elgin's bluff. He turns toward the house. "Want to come in?"
He takes a step and breathes a sigh of relief when, from behind him, Elgin mumbles, "No...We don't have the time for that now."
Zak turns back. "Maybe next time then." He hopes he doesn't sound too
relieved. Brushing past Elgin, he heads up the road. "I guess you'll be wanting your provisions then?"
"Yes," says Elgin, turning to follow.
Unbeknownst to Zak, Elgin makes an almost imperceptible gesture to one of his men. This man, Aaron, turns with all the others, as if to follow. However, when no one is looking, he slides quickly away and disappears between two houses while Zak leads the rest of the Highwaymen toward the old grocery store on the north side of town.
* * *
Aaron hides until the rest of the group has disappeared, then he edges past the houses until he reaches the one Zak had exited a few minutes before. Approaching from the rear, he steps slowly, carefully, eyes constantly scanning the broken windows and the closed back door. No movement, no sound—nothing.
He pauses, hand clutching the handle, ready to turn it and strike with the short spear he carries in the opposite hand. Still nothing from within.
The handle turns easily beneath his grip. The door ratchets open on rusted hinges. The sound is loud—too loud. He takes a tentative step back, raises the spear, the blackened tip pointed toward the door. Nothing happens—no one comes out.
He enters. It's as if he's stepped back in time. The home is pristine on the inside. The floors are free of dust, the corners free of cobwebs, no black mold that he can see, and no rodents—or evidence of them anywhere. It's a small house. The door he just entered opens into a small mudroom off the kitchen. Ahead of him is a door leading to a dining room and to the right is another door leading to a short hallway. He moves to the hallway.
The hallway contains two doors; one to a bedroom and the other to a half-bath. The hallway opens to the front living area. The house, a tight little boxy place, isn't big, but it's better than anything he's seen. While the place has the appearance of someone living in it, besides the cleanliness, there's no evidence Zak actually lives here. The bedroom comprises of a lone mattress on the floor—no clothes or anything else a resident might need or use.
Aaron glides back into the kitchen. There are a few brittle pieces of plasticware with some scraps of food, but nothing more. No water jugs, no knives for skinning game, not even any trash. This isn't Zak's prime domicile, thinks the Highwayman.
He's hiding something. He must be.
Moving back to the living area, he's about to exit by the front door when something outside catches his eye. He immediately ducks down and forward, pressing himself against the front wall, hoping they hadn't seen his movements. Across the street, a young man stands in the doorway to a house with a number six written in bright red on the front door. Just inside is a pretty little thing. Six inches shorter than the man, and half as heavy, her elfin features and pale skin glows as if lit from within. Her tiny, firm breasts ride high on her chest while the nipples, like tiny pebbles, press against the inside of her tight shirt, scream for his teeth to clamp down on them.
Then something miraculous happens—the young man kisses her and leaves. Carrying a single machete, he shuts the door, turns on his heel, and rushes up the street in pursuit of Elgin, Zak, and the others.
He knows what he should do. He should follow the young man, see what he's up to, and take him out if he poses a threat.
But then his eyes slide slowly back toward the house with the bloody red number six written on the front door. She's in there—probably alone. Surely Elgin wouldn't reprimand him too bad if he diverted from what he should be doing. Fuck it, he thinks. It's better to ask forgiveness than permission.
Aaron slides away from the window, opens the front door, and slinks over to the house across the street.
15
Karen plops down on a chair facing the door. She wants it to open, to see Chris walk back in after changing his mind—but the door remains closed and he remains gone on a quest for, what she believes, is probably useless information. In her mind, they should just follow the map, using Zak's notes of the surrounding area as a guide for places to avoid and people to shy away from. They would make better time on their own, anyway. She'd rather not have to sleep with one eye open if there were strangers traveling with them.
Alone—that's how it should be.
At least, until they catch up with Cowboy and Jack.
After another minute and the door still hasn't opened, she gets up to look around Zak's place. He always seems to have dried beef on hand and now that she's alone and thinking about it, she realizes her stomach has been rumbling for some time now. Finding the kitchen just off the dining room, it doesn't take her long to spot a stack of plastic containers. Inside the first one, she finds just what she's looking for—dried beef. Grabbing two pieces to satisfy her hunger, she closes the container and turns toward the rest of the house.
It's not her place and she shouldn't go snooping around but sitting in a chair and waiting around isn't in her nature. Like the house she and Chris are staying in, this one is unusually clean on the inside. She will say this, Zak keeps a clean house. She strolls down the hallway, running a finger along the wall—no streak or grime at all.
The first door she comes to must be Zak's room. A small mattress lies on the floor. Next to it, a squat chest-of-drawers. A few pieces of folded laundry sit on top of the dresser along with a hat that looks like its seen better days.
The second bedroom contains boxes of canned vegetables and other supplies. There are so many boxes they almost obscure the window.
It gets darker the further down the hallway she gets. There are no windows here and the only illumination comes from the living area at the other end of the house and what little light comes in from the first two bedrooms. There's another door here—a bathroom. Despite the gloom, she can just make out the white porcelain glow of the sink, toilet, and tub.
The hallway ends at another door. This one is closed. Level with her nose is a slide bolt. It’s engaged, securing whatever’s inside.
Curious, she touches the lock. Why did he put this here?
She lightly raps on the door. "Hello?"
Pressing her ear to the wood, she hears nothing from within.
She knocks a little louder the second time.
Still nothing.
Pulling the axe from the leather loop on her belt, she hefts it, ready for anything that might want to leap out at her.
With her free hand, she reaches for the slide bolt.
* * *
The young man with the machete pauses at the road, looking up and down as if contemplating which direction to go. Elgin and the others went away from him and hopefully, this one will follow their lead—otherwise, if he comes back across the street...
Well, Aaron thinks, tightening his grip on the spear. It wouldn't be the worst thing to happen. He could kill the young man with the machete and the woman would be his alone—to do with whatever he pleased whenever he pleased.
He's almost disappointed when the man turns away and heads up the street, crosses to the other side, and disappears amidst ten years of unkempt yards. When he's out of sight, the Highwayman turns back to the house with the red number six on the front door. She's probably just inside, waiting for her man to return. If that's the case, he can't risk approaching directly from the front. Scanning the houses across the street, he searches for a couple that looks to have a sizable gap between them—a trail clear of briars or other such obstacles. He sees one that looks serviceable just a few houses down the street. Staying low, he heads that direction, using this side of the street for cover before crossing directly to the other side and ducking into the alley.
It won't be long now. Aaron can already feel himself rise to the occasion.
* * *
He and Karen scoped out the old grocery store two days ago and mapped several ways to and from the store, each way providing ample cover. They’d done this with the intention of familiarizing themselves with this part of town, to know where to avoid if and when the Highwaymen showed up. Chris didn’t think he’d be using it to stalk them.
The building stands away from other buildings but
the large parking area, still containing a dozen rusting vehicles, keeps him from getting very close without being seen. Luckily, the lanes on either side of the building are narrow and heavily grown over with vegetation. He could get close depending on how many Highwaymen were around—and depending on if they were patrolling those areas.
Otherwise, he must watch from a second-floor apartment window from across the street. He wanted to listen in on the conversation, but at least, from that vantage point, he'll be able to get a good view of them.
Moving as silently as possible through the neighborhoods, he leaps a shallow creek, pushes through an overgrown wooded grove, and emerges behind the apartment complex.
He enters through the rear door and shoots straight up the stairs. If he's lucky, he beat them by a minute or two and can get the lay of the land before trying to sneak any closer.
Staying low, he slinks toward the window.
What he sees outside makes his heart skip a beat.
* * *
Accompanied by six other men, Elgin walks at Zak's side. The man's silence unnerves Zak, but this is nothing new. Elgin has always been the quiet type, preferring to issue orders in clipped, direct sentences. Zak hasn't seen him in person since leaving the Highwaymen. He'd run across groups over the last few years, but he'd stayed hidden, always watching them from a distance. While common for the Gatherers to travel this far south, the Hunters didn’t—they usually stuck to the areas immediately surrounding their living complex.
He thinks back to earlier, when Elgin has startled him after he'd left Chris and Karen's place. Zak believes Elgin said more to him in that one conversation than he's ever said to him in all the years prior.
Something is definitely up with the Highwaymen and Zak believes there's more to it than just making war with another group. Have they been watching him? Do they know about Chris and Karen? Or are they waiting on him to reveal their presence?
Tainted Souls Page 8
