Forsaken World (Book 5): Homecoming

by Watson, Thomas A.

  FORSAKEN WORLD

  Homecoming

  Book Five

  …..

  THOMAS A WATSON

  Copyright © July 31 2019

  THOMAS A WATSON/A-POC PRESS

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Credits

  Sabrina Jean/FastTrack Editing

  Cover Art by Christian Bentulan

  This book is a work of fiction. People places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the written consent of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Thank you for acknowledging the hard work of this author. If you didn’t purchase this book or it wasn’t purchased for you, please go purchase your own copy now.

  A Special Thank You

  Leslie Bryant

  Yalonda Butler

  Steven Smith

  Jeff Ashby Jr.

  Cora Burke

  Robert Launt

  Anna Shirley

  Fleur Wilkinson

  Deb Serres

  Jon Spielman

  CAST

  Carver-

  Johnathan (dad) Sandy (mom) Lance (13)

  Wilkerson-

  Bill (dad) Mary (mom), Ian (13), Allie (8) Jason a.k.a. Ooops (18, deceased)

  Thompson-

  Jennifer (15, calls Ian boo), Carrie (8)

  Lilly Ricci- (24, veterinarian)

  Doug Leary- uncle Doug (deceased)

  Dogs: Dino-mastiff George & Judy shepherds

  Dan & Ann (with parents)

  Bear Trap Team

  Heath (owner of house, 36, worked construction) Robin (wife, 35)

  Lori (daughter, 14) Denny (son, 12)

  Rhonda (Heath’s sister, 26, redhead)

  Dwain (Heath’s brother) Kathy (wife)

  Jodi (daughter, 7)

  Grady (37) Brenda (wife, Heath’s cousin)

  Dedication

  This is dedicated to all my fans, friends and family.

  I couldn’t do this without all of you.

  Thank you.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter One

  Northeast of Lenox, Tennessee

  Sitting in the small folding chair, Sandy finished cleaning her AR. Again. All the mud from the drainage ditches they crossed yesterday had coated everything so after making camp, she and Mary had started the task of cleaning all their gear. The guns had been first, but even by nightfall they still hadn’t been done, so they’d stayed in place. With the sun now lower in the sky, Sandy started cleaning her AR again to keep her hands and mind busy.

  Camped at the tip of a peninsula that jutted into a lake, Sandy glanced around and didn’t see anything close. Neither woman wanted to stay an extra night so close to the Mississippi River Bridge they had used to cross, but they didn’t have much choice. The horses were spent from the mad dash after Johnathan had been murdered and their gear really needed to be cleaned. Pushing the thought of Johnathan’s death from her mind, Sandy reassembled the AR.

  Across from Sandy, Mary propped up on her elbow. “Hear anything?” she asked.

  “Some ATVs to the west just after noon,” Sandy answered, field testing her AR when it was back together. “They weren’t there long.”

  Stretching out first, Mary stood up and patted Ann who’d been lying beside her. “The dogs handled the baths better than I thought they would,” Mary admitted.

  Dropping her eyes to Dan beside her, Sandy nodded. “Yeah, and they don’t seem as tired after taking a night off,” Sandy replied, forcing a smile.

  Walking over beside Sandy, Mary turned on the kerosene stove. “What else needs to be cleaned?”

  Giving a shrug, “Nothing,” Sandy answered. “I’m just keeping busy.”

  Reaching over, Mary patted Sandy’s shoulder. “Me too,” Mary mumbled.

  When Mary poured a cup of coffee for her, Sandy took it and looked out over the small lake. “I only killed six stinkers today,” Sandy told her, then took a sip.

  Holding her mug with two hands, Mary stood up and saw the horses already saddled. “Did you make any changes to the route we worked on?” Mary asked and Sandy shook her head. Glancing at her watch, Mary looked up at the sky. “We should be able to leave in an hour. You recite the route and then I will.”

  Lowering her mug, Sandy took a deep breath and started reciting the route Johnathan had made her memorize. When she was done, Mary started while Sandy moved over to pack the last of her stuff up. Almost finished, Mary stopped reciting, hearing gunfire to the south. For several seconds, sporadic gunfire sounded but then stopped suddenly.

  “I haven’t heard gunfire that close, have you?” Sandy asked.

  Shaking her head, “No. That wasn’t even a mile away,” Mary answered. “I heard some that was several miles away last night.”

  Moving over, Sandy held up the scanner. “I heard them talking again on CB’s three hours ago.”

  “You find out anything new?”

  “Yeah,” Sandy answered. “They got a few people across the bridge to look around, but stinkers were thick along the interstate. They called them back before they got cut off.”

  Nodding, Mary stepped over before putting a hand on Sandy’s shoulder. Yesterday after they’d made camp, neither had felt like sleeping, so they’d cleaned gear and Mary had turned on the small scanner. They had heard people talking on CBs about a group of bandits that hit Steele, and the entire area was looking for them. Unfortunately, the locals didn’t bother asking for ID and anyone not local was the enemy.

  The town of Caruthersville seemed to have a lot of people and that was who’d come after Sandy and Mary. Just before dark they’d found out Johnathan had killed seven and wounded five. Listening to the CB, they could tell the people were just running around because at ten o’clock that night the bandits had struck the town of Steele again.

  “Or maybe that’s what they wanted everyone to hear,” Mary offered. “Maybe we need to wait a little longer before moving out.”

  To the southwest, the sound of engines filled the air. “That’s near Lenox,” Sandy stated with certainty. “We need to leave. We’ve already taken too much time off. Think about it, the longer we stay here the more of a risk they’ll find us.”

  Hearing that, Mary nodded and closed her backpack up. “We need to avoid having the horses walk through water if we can help it. I’m worried about their hooves.”
<
br />   Sandy patted her thigh, and Dan came over and sat down at her feet. Leaning over, Sandy rubbed his head. “Let’s eat and move out,” Sandy said in a breaking voice.

  Wiping tears from her eyes, Mary gave a sigh and grabbed the pot off the stove and fixed them two bowls. As the two ate, they listened to the forsaken world around them. Still off to the southwest they could hear the sound of engines, but they seemed to be heading away.

  After checking the camp once more, they packed up and pulled on backpacks. “Want me to lead?” Mary asked.

  “If you want to, but I think we need to keep doing what we were doing with Jo-,” Sandy stopped as her voice caught. Clearing her throat, “We need to keep changing, like we were with Johnathan. That way, we don’t get complacent.”

  Giving Sandy an understanding nod, Mary climbed up on her horse. “I’ll take over at midnight then.”

  Climbing up on her horse, Sandy gave a grunt and then settled into the saddle. Holding the reins, Sandy started arranging and checking her equipment over her body and saddle. Glancing back and seeing Mary was waiting, Sandy gave her horse a small kick and guided him through the woods. With Johnathan gone now, each was leading three horses. After talking about it, they’d both agreed to keep the horses and change out the horses they rode every day.

  Riding north, Sandy soon reached a small dirt track heading east. Tugging the reins to the right, Sandy turned her horse onto the path at an easy walk. A soft growl sounded below her and without thinking, Sandy raised her bow up as a shadow stumbled toward them on the dirt road. Squeezing her knees against the horse to steady herself, Sandy released the arrow.

  She watched the shadow give a jolt and then collapse to the ground in a heap. “Good boy, Dan,” Sandy whispered, steering her horse toward the stinker she’d shot. With a grin seeing the stinker on its back, Sandy leaned over in the saddle and reached down for the arrow jutting out of the stinker’s face.

  When the shaft touched her glove Sandy gripped hard and yanked, hearing the slurping sound as the arrow pulled out. “I’ll never get used to that sound,” Sandy admitted with a shiver, pulling up in her saddle.

  “Thought we had seventy-one before we have to retrieve,” Mary said, moving up behind her.

  Shaking the arrow violently in the air to sling the gunk off, “I didn’t get off my horse,” Sandy responded, putting the arrow back in her bow.

  “Damn, I should’ve thought of that,” Mary sighed. “I could’ve got a dozen or more of mine.”

  Shrugging as she lifted her bow up to aim at another shadow ahead that had stepped out of the trees, “It just came to me,” Sandy breathed out, then released. The stinker raised its arms toward them just as the arrow hit it in the face.

  “Let me get this one,” Mary offered, steering her horse to the side of the dirt path.

  “It’s not sticking up,” Sandy noted. Watching Mary lean way off her saddle Sandy bit her bottom lip, expecting Mary to faceplant on the ground any second. The stinker fell on its left side and the arrow shaft was only a few inches horizontal off the ground.

  With her left foot braced on the saddle horn, Mary leaned over until she could almost touch the ground. Passing the stinker, she grabbed the shaft and yanked up as Ann came over wanting to know what she was doing. “Ann,” Mary cringed as Ann licked her face.

  Pulling back up in the saddle, Mary wiped the dog slobber off her face with the back of her glove. “I don’t like dog kisses,” Mary smiled down at Ann.

  “When did you become a rodeo rider?” Sandy asked, pulling back her bow when another stinker stepped out.

  Slinging the gore off the arrow, “Hate to admit it, but I’ve dropped so much shit since we’ve been riding that I just learned how,” Mary huffed as Sandy released an arrow. “My pack only has some ammo and food, so it’s not that heavy. Bill told me to do that after I fell on my face.”

  Watching the stinker drop, “That’s why you fell off your horse in Utah?” Sandy asked.

  “Yeah,” Mary admitted. “I dropped my coffee mug.”

  Seeing Sandy steer her horse over to the stinker, “Your pack is too heavy, Sandy,” Mary warned. “I don’t have clothes or extra boots in my backpack. I leave them on my packhorse.”

  Taking the advice, Sandy sighed with a nod and then watched Mary steer her horse over before hanging off the saddle again and yanking the arrow out. “I’m taking some shit out of my pack,” Sandy grunted. “I hate climbing on and off the horse to retrieve arrows and cut fences.”

  Sitting back in her saddle, Mary shook the arrow hard. “I wish I would’ve been doing this sooner,” Mary admitted, then looked back to see two stinkers following them, but the horses were moving faster than the stinkers.

  The dirt track they were on ran into a real dirt road, and Sandy could see a few houses around but didn’t see many shadowy forms of stinkers. Killing any stinkers that would intercept them, Sandy kept her head on a swivel and strained to hear anything as they rode along.

  Ahead she spotted Highway 78, and Sandy saw the shadowy forms she had been looking for. “Shit,” she grunted, pulling her horse to a stop a half a mile from the highway. All the forms were heading south in the slow and steady stinker walk.

  “It’s not that many,” Mary offered, pulling up beside her.

  “It’s enough to bog us down,” Sandy replied. “I don’t want to risk using guns unless we have no choice.”

  Agreeing with a nod, Mary looked off to the north and could see the fields were flooded. “Seems Bill was right, all river levels would rise,” Mary sighed.

  “We need to get some distance between us and the damn river, so we can have room to move,” Sandy pointed out, still staring at the shadowy forms.

  “We can try skirting the flooded areas in the field, but we have to get on Highway 78 to use that bridge unless you want to try and have the horses swim the Obion River.”

  A shiver ran down Sandy’s spine at the mention of ‘bridge’. Shaking her head, “No. As wide as it is, the horses could get hurt trying to find the edge,” Sandy replied.

  Glancing back, “Well, we need to do something or take out the stinkers behind us,” Mary told her. Sandy turned and saw over a dozen shadows following them.

  “Fuck it,” Sandy snarled. “The damn bridge is only three miles away. Let’s move to the road. I’m sure we can get back in fields and dirt roads after Bogota.”

  “I’m game,” Mary shrugged, adjusting her AR across her body so it wouldn’t interfere with her bow.

  Kicking her horse, Sandy turned over her shoulder. “Stay just back from me in case I need help clearing a path.”

  Answering with a grunt, Mary kicked her horse into a trot, moving up beside Sandy’s right side. Reaching the road, they saw several stinkers turn around for them but steered north. Shadows to their front started converging and Sandy moved to the soft shoulder, keeping the horses in a slow trot.

  Risking a glimpse back to Mary, Sandy saw Mary was almost riding in the ditch. “Move back behind me, so your horses don’t trip. I’ll just use my pistol if they get thick,” Sandy called out softly. Pulling her reins back, Mary fell in behind just as Sandy shot a stinker with her bow.

  Watching the stinker collapse, Mary chuckled as the two behind it tripped, smacking the asphalt very hard, face first. “I don’t care who you are, that faceplant hurt,” Mary chuckled softly, not even thinking about retrieving the arrow.

  Continuing north in a steady trot, the stinkers thinned out and Sandy was able to dodge most. When she saw the bridge ahead, Sandy took a deep breath and steered her horse up on the roadway, cringing to hear the clap of hooves sounding off. “I wish we could put socks on the horses to muffle that,” she complained.

  Crossing the bridge, Sandy shot a stinker and then glanced out over the water while she grabbed another arrow. “Holy shit,” Sandy gasped, seeing how wide the river was now. On the map the river had been fifty yards across, but now it was over three hundred easy. “Glad we didn’t try to swim that
.”

  When they cleared the bridge, Sandy saw the bridge rose above the ground for half a mile before the roadway dropped back to ground level. Even though water was still on each side of the raised roadway, Sandy moved her horse back to the shoulder before slowing them to a walk. Hearing the clatter of hooves cease when the horses moved to the grass, Sandy sighed with relief.

  A mile from Bogota, she steered the horses off the highway toward a field. Not seeing a barbed wire fence surrounding the field, Sandy wanted to cheer. As her horse reached the field, Sandy looked down at the dirt and saw it was moist. The horses left very visible tracks. “I could follow those tracks,” Sandy mumbled, then glanced back and saw Mary scanning around.

  A soft growl sounded below, and as Sandy turned to Dan walking beside her, she jerked her horse to a stop. Off in the distance to her left, she heard the unmistakable sound of a car door slamming. “Was that a car door?” Mary asked, moving up beside her.

  “Yeah, but it was a long ways off,” Sandy whispered, hearing muffled pops. “Let’s get closer to the east tree line.”

  Moving across the field, they heard someone shouting from very far off where the muffled shots were coming from. Sandy was certain in the old world they never would’ve heard it, but this new forsaken world was devoid of modern sounds. Now, the muffled pops and sonic cracks were very easily heard, but only because they were in a steady tempo. Reaching the end of the field, Sandy guided her horse into a small stand of trees that bordered a dirt farm road.

  Very slowly, Sandy eased her horse to the road and looked to the west up the dirt road. Half a mile away, where the dirt road met Highway 78, she could see the parking lights of two pickup trucks. “You hear that?” Mary asked behind her.

  “They are shooting with suppressors,” Sandy told her. “Let’s head across this field, but stay near the tree line.”

  Feeling very exposed when she crossed the dirt road into the next field, Sandy was again thankful for no barbed wire. The small ribbon of trees they rode beside gave them no cover, but it did give them a background to move against.