“Hang in there, buddy,” I said while placing pressure on his wound.
“I’m a hanging. Don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold on though,” Garett replied.
“Hands in the air right now,” a voice said from behind me. More boot stomps appeared following the man’s order. “Stand up and put your hands on your head,” the voice demanded again.
“I can’t stand, you shot me you pricks’,” Garett said.
“Listen old man, not another word or...” the man said before Garett interrupted him.
“Or what, you going to shoot me again? Have at it, this hurts too much anyways,” Garett replied. “If I do stand up, can I go piss in my titanium bathtub? It’s prettier than my toilet.”
Garett flashed his hand to show he was holding a grenade. I shook my head to Garett, but he only smiled.
“Farrah, bail out girl,” Garett yelled as he pulled the pin.
I ran towards the bathroom while closing the door and jumped in the tub before the explosion ensued the room. Shards of wood surrounded the tub with broken pieces of metal and glass raining around me. Smoke filled the air and I could hear wrestling outside the door.
“Atlas,” Farrah yelled from outside the shattered door. “Where are you?”
As the ringing began to subside and behind my coughs I yelled, “I’m in here.”
Farrah busted down the rest of the door. “Come on, we got to get out of here,” she said as she put my arm around her. “The building is about to come down.”
Farrah guided me through the doorway and across the charred bodies scattered on the floor. We walked out to the field where the carnage began to settle and reanimate. The barn began to be engulfed in flames. We stood at a distance long enough for us to catch our breath.
“I’m going to miss that old man, and his shit coffee,” Farrah said.
“Me too,” I replied.
“Come on, I got the keys to the Razor. We need to go before the dead wake up,” Farrah said. “You can leave your shirt off if you want, I don’t mind it, but you might freeze,” Farrah said as she handed me my bag.
“You’re such a perv,” I replied.
“I’m an adorable perv though,” Farrah countered. “Perv or not, I just saved your ass again.”
“That’s what guardian angels are supposed to do,” I replied.
“Forever watching over you,” Farrah said behind her graceful smile before cranking the Razor.
I remember as we drove off into the woods the day we first met. I had frightened her. Scared her to the point of tears. I didn’t know that she would be the one that will forever be in my heart. Farrah’s laugh, her smile, her awkward and perverted way of complimenting me without needing to are things I’ll miss bout her. But what I will mostly miss is her altogether. Farrah was a beautiful woman that I didn’t deserve. We spent years with each other while searching for Kiere. The long conversations we had, kept life interesting as we traveled. The many different people we had come across loved her with each interaction. The day I lost Farrah I lost a piece of myself. Even though she won’t be reading this, the next chapter of this crazy life is dedicated to her, and I hope I do her justice in telling her final moments.
Chapter 21
Autumn’s bitter climate had approached in a fast wave. The leaves changed colors in a radiance that showed a true beauty in these shadowed days. Chilled air prevailed over the sun’s heat rays. My ever-growing beard kept most of my face warm. Farrah scavenged us some heavy coats from an abandoned warehouse.
Our journey took us to various places. We traveled to broken down towns that nature took control over; a crisp hidden lake that no man seemed to have polluted. We had even ventured to an old wax museum. In honor of the desecration of Gandhi, I will mention that his wax body created a great blunt object to a zombie’s skull. A man of peace can sure do some damage.
We followed clue after clue while trying to find Warren Cross and to the place in Lebanon they took Kiere, but there was never any compound. Each time we believed we were getting closer to finding Kiere, we seemed to be forced back. In the nights, when the nightmares crippled me, Farrah would hold me against her and place me in a warm embrace. Angelic protection is what I always considered her to be. There were many sleepless nights that created an infused connection between us, but we never acted on it. She had enough respect for me and my relationship with Aurora to not try anything. The feelings we shared for one another never moved passed words, despite the temptation, and even then, the truth about how we really felt never came up. Mostly just what if comments and smirked remarks about the fun we could have if only we were both available.
Logan always kept an eye on us even though I always ensured him that nothing would ever happen between me and Farrah. His tone was never acceptable, but he told me if he was able to have babies with just one woman in this world, Farrah was his number one pick. Even though she was not aware of his existence, he never said that in front of her. As confident as Logan always was, he would become bashful in Farrah’s presence.
“Do you remember a time when everyone could just capture moments in time with their cell phone cameras of this beautiful season,” Farrah asked as we strolled down a dampened road where orange, red and brown leaves rested after falling from the trees on each side of it.
“That’s not what I think about when I see these leaves. I imagine the time I spent with my friends at the shooting range,” I replied.
“Really? For a moment you really can’t think about not having a gun in your hand,” Farrah scoffed.
As I smirked, I explained, “I have always had a gun in my hand. From the time I began preparing for this world with the Z.E.D.S., to the time I enlisted into the Army. There was never a greater feeling than holding a 9mm Beretta in my hand.” I could see the confusion in Farrah’s face, so I continued to elaborate further. “When I hold a pistol in my hand, I feel power. I feel protection. It’s the only thing I have ever been passionate about. Protecting people, and playing guardian are the things I have always wanted to do,” I explained.
“There had to be a time when you didn’t always see yourself holding a gun. There must be a childhood memory you have that didn’t involve bullets,” Farrah quizzed.
I thought back to when I was a kid; the moments in which my dad drove a truck across country. “This one time when I was very young, I remembered a solo trip I took with my dad. It was around six in the morning, and I was asleep on the living room couch. My dad woke me up very subtle and told me to get dressed because he was taking me somewhere. My brothers were still asleep in their rooms, and this show was playing on the television. I believe it was Rugrats,” I told Farrah as we kept walking down the abandoned road.
“Oh, I remember that show. It was a cartoon with a bunch of talking babies,” Farrah chimed in.
“That’s right. Even though Tommy was the main baby, Chucky was always my favorite. No matter how scared that little boy was, he always followed Tommy on adventures. He was his right-hand man,” I clarified.
“I loved Angelica,” Farrah confessed.
“Really,” I said with surprise. “How could you have ever liked that monster? She was always horrible to the kids.”
“I think she was just misunderstood. And she only lashed out at the babies because her parents never gave her much attention. Although she was a hateful witch, she would always come through for the babies in the end when it mattered,” Farrah explained.
“Okay, I won’t argue with you there,” I replied.
“I figured your favorite would have been Tommy. He was the leader and the protector of the gang,” Farrah said.
“Tommy was a great leader. I agree. But Chucky was the voice of reason. No matter what fear Chucky developed in his head dealing with something in the world, he always seemed to overcome it. Without Chucky, there was no Tommy and vice versa. Chucky was a true symbol for courage,” I explained.
“You have a point there, but we went off subject here. Tell me more about your trip,�
�� Farrah encouraged.
“I could talk about that show all day.” I chuckled but then continued with my story. “After I got dressed, dad took me to his semi. As we walked outside, I could feel the cold air hit me like a freight train. The leaves were the same color as they are now. It almost looked like Craters Point. That spot we were at earlier where you could basically see the whole county. It was as beautiful and gracious as that. The sun was barely peeking through the night sky. As I climbed into my dad’s semi-truck, there was a bed in the back of the cab for when he had to go on long trips and didn’t want to stay in a hotel room. He told me to lie down and he would wake me when we got where we were going. The roar of the semi vibrated the bed and the wool blanket kept me warm. I fell asleep almost instantly, but I remember when I woke up the sky was white and I could see trees as we passed them,” I described as we kept walking.
“Where did he take you? Was it the shooting range?” Farrah asked while showcasing a slight grin.
“No, it was nothing like that. He pulled into a gravel parking lot and shut off the truck. He turned to wake me up, but he noticed I already had my eyes open. We’re here buddy is all he said, and I climbed into the front seat where I looked out the window and saw an old diner. It was called Back Yard Cooking. A woman by the name of Patsy owned it. He took me towards the door, and as he opened it everyone turned around and began greeting him by name. He was met with nothing but smiles and handshakes,” I said.
“Everyone there knew him?” Farrah asked.
“Oh, they loved him. They told me stories about how they would mess with each other on the CB radios and the reason he got his name Sure Shot. It was something that I was promised to never mention. Some type of code amongst truckers on how they get their names is what they called “Forbidden Secrets.” Farrah chuckled a bit at the nonsense of a name being considered forbidden. “We ate a big breakfast of pancakes with maple syrup, some crispy bacon and cheesy scrambled eggs. Not only was it shredded cheese, but melted slices of Pepper Jack covered the eggs. Oh, it was so good. We conversed with more truckers before we left. It was a great time spent with my dad. It was simple, and yet it was one of the greatest times of my life,” I said. “Times were easy and simple.”
“I’m just glad that the story didn’t end with you target practicing somewhere,” Farrah said as she patted my shoulder.
“Oh, he took me to target practice after that. We shot the shit out of some wooden targets,” I said behind a laugh.
“Oh, come on! What the Hell Atlas,” Farrah yelled while punching me in the arm.
“I’m joking,” I paused. “They were metal.”
“You’re such an ass,” Farrah laughed.
In the distance we heard the roar of an engine. Farrah and I stopped for a moment to see if we could identify the source. Once we listened closer, we heard a faint voice.
“Help me,” the voice screamed.
There was a heavy wooded area next to us that we ran to and hid behind some trees to watch from a safe spot. A man was struggling to run down the road while holding his separated arm in his hand.
“Will someone please help me,” he yelled again. “Please!”
Farrah began to run from the woods, but I stopped her by grabbing her arm.
“What are you doing? That man needs our help,” Farrah growled.
“Just wait,” I commanded as I kept watching the man.
A truck raced from behind him and halted inches away. Three more trucks drove around him and they barricaded the man into a stopping point. Multiple people jumped out of the trucks frantically laughing and hitting their weapons against their vehicles. We stepped closer to them remaining camouflaged within the brush and trees. The armed people were too focused on their victim that they couldn’t hear the leaves breaking beneath our footsteps. We stopped just mere feet away from them. We could hear them talking to the runaway and I began assessing our survival rate if we tried to help the guy.
“Did you honestly think you could leave us? We are everywhere Calvin. No matter where you try to hide, we will find you. That symbol on your face is forever,” said a man wearing a RefrigiWear Combo Clava in a strong deep southern accent. “Once you accept the blood of our savior, you are bound by him until death.”
I looked closer at the prisoner they were talking to, and I could see a red cross branded on his forehead.
“I just want to be left alone. I signed up with you guys to save the world. All you guys are doing is destroying it. You are murdering innocent people just because Warren says you have to. There is no God in that. That’s the devil, Trout,” Calvin explained while trembling with every word he muttered.
Another member walked up to him and struck the man across the face with their hand. He stumbled for a moment until another took their baton and swung it to his knees. He fell to the asphalt and dropped his arm. Trout picked his arms up and began to twirl it like a bow staff.
“Oh Calvin. Don’t you know that such blasphemy against our savior is warranted to death by hanging. Or my personal favorite, burned at the stake like the Salem Witch Trials,” Trout said while walking around him. “You know the code and you broke it. You were a trusted soldier that stood at Warren’s side and you betrayed all of us.”
“Warren is an evil man.” Calvin alleged while spitting out blood. “Do you think he honestly cares about any of us?”
Trout continued to walk around Calvin with commanding demeanor. “If you hadn’t stole what was his personal comradery of the Z.E.D.S. he probably wouldn’t have invested into finding you with such passion,” Trout said. “So where is it?”
Calvin struggled to his feet, coughing up more blood as he stammered to find balance. “You will never find her. She is long gone now. That little girl didn’t deserve any of this. You are all going to burn in Hell for what you have done,” Calvin yelled as he spit blood onto Trout’s mask.
I knew Calvin was talking about Kiere. I began searching through my bag trying to find something that would kill them all. Trout ripped the mask off his head and threw it against the road. He swung his baton across Calvin’s face, and he fell to the ground.
“He’s talking about Kiere Farrah. We have to get him out of there,” I said while gripping a flash bang from my bag.
“Slow down. We must think about this before we go charging in. We are severely outnumbered and if we die then it’s obvious we won’t find her,” Farrah whispered.
“Didn’t you hear him? He knows where Kiere is,” I said.
“I understand that, but we are no good to her dead. We have to figure out a way to get him out of there without dying while trying,” Farrah explained while holding me back.
I gripped her hand on my shoulder as I handed her the flash bang and said, “I’m going to get him out of there, and he is going to come to you. Wait here until I give you the signal. When I do you toss this so I can get him out of there.”
Farrah placed her hand on my face with mine still holding it and gave me a gentle kiss. I was slightly taken back by the kiss, and I could see the worry in her eyes. It was almost as if she doubted for a minute that she’d ever be presented with the chance again.
“Don’t get yourself shot before I come to your rescue,” Farrah whispered with a passionate smile.
“You just get that man far away from here and I will meet you near the cliff side at Craters Point,” I instructed refocusing on my task.
I rose from the ground and walked towards the crowd with my hands in the air. No one noticed me stepping towards them until I yelled, “Hey assholes!”
Each of them turned to face me and the ones with guns pointed them at me. Trout hesitated for a moment before staring at me from head to toe.
“Who might you be fellow passer? Are you looking for safety,” Trout said.
“I’m the one you’re looking for,” I replied.
“Well, I’m sorry to say you are not my friend. Considering the face that we are looking for is the opposite gender of you, that makes
you something that doesn’t concern us,” Trout explained.
“Does the name Atlas ring a bell,” I asked with my hands still in the air.
An eerie smile creeped over his face as Trout said, “Well I be damned. You are Atlas Conrad, the leader of the Z.E.D.S.?”
“The one and only,” I replied.
“If it isn’t our lucky day followers. It is our one and only nemesis. How did you find yourself all of the way out here,” Trout asked.
“It seems like I am the main focus of your man hunt. You let that man go, you can have me,” I bargained.
The smile never left Trout’s face. “Why would I let him go just because you showed up unannounced? I just got the best deal in the world. Warren is going to love this. I may become his right hand after he comes and fetches you two. He can tell me where that girl is, and I can take you straight to Prophet Cross.”
I lowered my hand and gripped my Beretta from its holster. I hurriedly placed the barrel against my temple and pulled back the hammer. “Let him go or I pull the trigger and you get nothing. What do you think your boss would like more, the lackey or the leader of the Z.E.D.S.?”
“If you kill yourself, then you lose. So how about you quit bluffing and just put that gun down,” Trout said.
“I know your boss would rather want me alive than dead. Without me then he has no way of finding the rest of my team, and then they will come for all of you and end this whole damn thing. Then who will Warren Cross blame for that. My guess is the one guy that could have stopped it,” I said in a confident tone.
“How do you know we already don’t know where they are,” Trout asked while folding his arms together.
“If you did, you would have already swarmed them by now. The reason you took my daughter was so I would come to you. Well here I am. You have five seconds to decide. Let him go and take me, or I kill myself right here, right now. I’m sure you don’t want the consequences from your boss considering what has happened to Calvin here.”
Trout’s smile began to slowly fade.
Logan appeared next to me and said, “Here you go with the counting again. You know this isn’t going to work well if he calls your bluff. What will you do then?”
Z.E.D.S. Series (Book 2): Z.E.D.S. Wayward Son Page 17
