“And they cooperate for food?” Karen squints her right eye to get a better view at the man standing with the sun behind his back.
“They cooperate for a chance at being released.”
“Some of those men were murderers and you’d let them go?” Kalvin protests.
“Murderers, thieves, rapists.” He rubs his bewhiskered chin. “It’s old-world thinking. You telling me in the last year you’ve never killed?”
“Only biters,” Kalvin says.
Karen doesn’t interject. It was a week ago she may have had to kill a five-year-old with a derringer hidden in her teddy bear.
“Where are you disposing of the bodies of the undead?” Kalvin asks.
“That’s classified. But you’ll find out. I’m adding you to the chain gang. We’ll take the little lady to the jail. We don’t allow women to work outside the fence.” The cowboy would spit if he had chew.
“For uncovering something you said your counsel approved?” Kalvin protests.
“For trespassing in a secure area. We must enforce our rules, and the chain gangs have thinned. Most of the original federal prisoners are gone. We’ve moved residents to the county jail.”
“What happens when you run out of inmates? How will you collect fuel for the power plant?” Karen asks.
“What?” Kalvin seems shocked by her question.
“You’re smart. We need smart people. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Don’t make me hurt you. “We’re not here to stay. I came to Springfield to retrieve my sister. Then we head back to Grandpa’s cabin,” Karen lies.
“You’re not safe in some cabin compared to here,” the cowboy says.
“I’m Karen.” Rapport, we need a rapport.
“I don’t care who you are. People leaving draws the rotters.”
“You’re using them for fuel. I would think you’d required more.”
The cowboy ignores her logic. “How do you know your sister is still here?”
“She was in the jail. Drug charge. We take her away and that’s one less mouth to feed.”
“One less mouth to fuck,” squeals one of the men.
The cowboy jerks the shotgun from the man’s hands. “You shut your fool mouth.”
“I’ll take my turn right now,” the second shotgun wielder smirks.
Karen draws Grace’s derringer. Before she fires, the cowboy points the barrel of his .45 and splatters brains over the overgrown grass.
The cylinder of the .45 breaks the nose of the man on his right. He blows a hole in the chest of the third.
Kalvin moves in low, but before he tackles the cowboy, he comes face to face with the barrel of the smoking gun.
“You think I was going to hand this girl over to you and let you march out?” The cowboy unsheathes a Bowie knife and imbeds it in the man whose nose he broke.
“You’ve no idea what’s going on here. You really have a cabin?” the cowboy asks.
Karen keeps the derringer trained on his face. “You ask me now?”
“You wouldn’t speak the truth unless you trust me. And if you didn’t, I’d kill you and claim everyone else bought it in a firefight. I’d be a hero.” He lowers his gun. “I want to go with you. There are problems brewing here. Civil revolt, if I had to give it a label.”
He killed three. If he left a partner, his motives might be questionable, but all three? No trust…not yet.
“The good residents here are going to get screwed. They keep letting the fanatics in, and they’re taking over. They’re preparing witch hunts. There’s a following of those who believe the undead are the end of days pestilence spoken of in Revelations and those not bitten are God’s chosen people.”
“Witch hunts?”
“Any of those men out there collecting fuel are considered homos.”
“Can’t your counsel control them?” Karen asks.
“They’re barely keeping the lights on. And they sure as fuck don’t know what we’re using instead of coal. I’m Alec, and do you have a cabin?”
“Yes. It’s not close. But I’m not going anywhere without my sister.”
“You better kill him.” Kalvin points to the undead rising with the chest wound.
Alec shatters its skull. “You sure she’s in the jail?” He wipes the bloody knife on the dead man’s pants. He chucks Kalvin a shotgun.
Trust. “Yes. I can’t promise you’ll do any better out there with us,” Karen says.
“If I get your sister, you’ll trust me enough to bring me along?”
“It would earn you a ticket. If you follow my orders,” Karen says.
“As long as you don’t hold what they’ve done to your sister against me.”
I never jumped into the sack with a guy I just met before the end of the world. I never found one guy I trusted enough to expose myself after a few hours. Not a literal exposure, I have a few plastic beads behind some lace panties in my apartment. But sex, it’s private. Meant to be performed as a special act between lovers—not two passing ships.
Placing trust in Alec…difficult, even harder for me to trust moving as fast as he is. He offered the perfect setup to convince me his sales pitch was genuine. It was too spur of the moment not to be genuine. Why does he wish to flee? What does he know? The Queen City appears safe. Fuck. He’s in a position of mild authority. Those people never run until they must.
No one in Springfield knows who we are or about Acheron. Do they? No. Frank and Kalvin wouldn’t blab, and Grace, despite her many questions, doesn’t. No one has a reason to infiltrate our ka-tet. They could imprison us until we squealed, if they did. Alec jumped ship quickly—a sign on just how bad it is here. The loaded shotguns were a welcome addition since my weapons are buried outside the main gate.
Karen asks her next burning question. “How will you explain those dead men? Won’t you have to check in with your command, shift change report, a boss?”
“Not as such. I’ve a free reign to run people out of that section. Sort of on a multiple day shift,” Alec says.
“Do you interact with many people?”
“Last week, we had a Cotillion…no, lady. Not much of a time, but on occasion to shoot the shit around a campfire, and maybe have a liberated beer if we find one in an unsearched house.”
“Too bad.” I was hoping he might know a train engineer. She covers her thought. “It might improve your manners.”
“Manners, little lady, are in short supply when any second a chomper attempts to eat you.” Alec raises his arm and closes his fist.
Karen wonders if he picked up the hand signal or if he was once in the military. No, if he was, they kicked him out.
He hands her binoculars and points. “You’ll understand why out’s a necessity. But I need someplace to go first.”
Better the devil you know. She eases through trees and low shrubs running along a navel-high chain-link fence. She doesn’t need the magnifying power to spot the people loading a dump truck. Crouching to hide her body behind the greenery, Karen examines the workers through the lens.
She lowers her binoculars to dab at her eyes with a red bandana before peering back through. People load the truck bed with dozens of science textbooks. The school tomes stand out, being brightly colored and identical. Boxes of other books marked with library tags on the spine are dumped in on top.
It takes little speculation as to what these people intend—a biblical cleansing of knowledge. Encountering fanatics, the past few months spoke of the worthy. Now it would seem those fortifying themselves within Springfield intend to enforce religious fanaticism.
If it was winter, and they lacked fuel, this wouldn’t be a concern, but…I’ve used a few cheap romances to build a fire in the cold. Desperate times. Fuck me. These people intend to destroy past knowledge, fearing science brought about the plague of undead.
She punches Alec in the gut with the binoculars. “You’re burning bodies for fuel. You don’t need to destroy books. Put a stop to it.”
“The trucks drop their load into rail cars once full of coal. I’ve never been inside the power plant, but those working in the plant don’t check through what’s being burnt. That’s our job before it’s sent over,” Alec says.
“Right now, no one cares. As long as there’s electricity,” Kalvin says. He has remained back as rear guard.
“From what I’ve seen, the more religious citizens won’t stand for prostitution much longer. They’re campaigning for a theocracy lead council. And doing this shit in secret.”
“Do we set up a trade route with fanatics?” Kalvin ponders.
Karen punches him in the arm. Kalvin grunts. Her eyes beam at him. I should cut off a toe for your mistake.
“Trade? What would a few people in a cabin have to trade?” Alec asks.
Pissed at Kalvin for turning over her whole card, she says, “Plenty to scavenge outside the wall to trade for items. Electricity alone would be worth a trade to charge a jumpstart, batteries…”
He cuts her off, “Even after the world ends, you women still need your size D draining toys.”
A sex toy joke. What an ass. “All the men who measured up are rotten.” And I don’t mean dead. Go for broke, girl.
“We’re scouts for a small community. We’re here to learn if it’s viable to set up a trading relationship with other survivors.”
“No sister?”
“Not mine. Our leader prides himself on locating lost relatives. He had better luck in the first few months, but we still seek them out.”
“Noble,” Alec says.
“It keeps our community tight.”
“Is this when you say, if you don’t return, they come after you?” Alec asks.
“I’m sure they would, but they would be no threat against these numbers.” Karen bites her thumb. “You’re not the only person who desires to leave.”
“Too many residents evacuating will be noticed,” Alec says.
“We leave with you and two others. Makes seven. I won’t stay if they’re burning books. Next is not suffering a witch among them.” Karen scoffs. “I’m like you, I want gone.”
“Who’s the jail bird?” Alec asks.
“Paola.”
Alec’s face melts. “Fuck me running.”
Karen notes to play poker with him. He’s all tell.
“She’s mental,” he says.
“We all are.”
“I’m just saying I warned you. You better be willing to end her outside. She crazy enough to give you up to the rotters.”
“Get her and meet us,” Karen orders. Ethan’s lecture to her on her first time out rings in her ears. “East toward Joplin.”
“I won’t be able to get her until after dark. I’ll meet you where I caught you.”
“You bring enough water for the two of you.” Karen considers her travel ruse. “Three days. We should find some before the end of day four. Bring ammo for your own gun.”
Alec nods. “Got plenty. We shouldn’t leave the city just before first light.”
“There is a lot of trust being played here,” she says.
“We’re in the shit now, sister.”
Once Alec has left them, Karen says, “We get our gear and Grace. Have Frank meet us. We go. If Harley backs out, or Alec doesn’t get Paola, we go.”
“You trust him?” Kalvin asks.
“The only people I trust are at Acheron.”
Kalvin says, “I only trust you.”
“THE LORD WOULD want you to.” John’s lies reel in weak-minded believers. His pastor con always paid off better in skin than in money.
Gooseflesh covers her skin. “I-I…I just. I’ve never even kissed a boy.” The light brown-haired girl’s nervous mutter has a ‘I have desire, but I don’t want to disappoint you’ protest.
He pats the back of her hand, wishing he recalled her name. Knowing her name and using it over and over would endear her to him. “I don’t expect you to know everything. God’s happy you have kept yourself for me.”
“I’m scared. My mother would not want me to.” She flashes a shy smile.
Why can’t I recall her name? She’d be bouncing on me if I could say her name. “Your mother would need you to carry on. You care about the environment, don’t you?” His hand touches her creamy white thigh just above the knee.
She has bright red arms but has kept her lower limbs covered while laboring in the sun. He brushes over bits of peach fuzz covering her leg, reminding him of how young she is. An older, experienced woman would be embarrassed if a new man touched her unshaven legs. Maybe she’s never shaved. “We have a duty to humanity. We have to repopulate the planet.”
“I’m fifteen.”
“Much of human history found women to be married off at that age.”
“You want to marry me?”
Magic word. “If we make love, we are married, in the eyes of God.” He leans in and puts his lips on hers. No tongue—the loving touch of outer skin. She doesn’t pull away, but she has no response to the pressure on her face.
The doorjamb splinters as it flings open. Wood chunks clatter on the floor, and the bulk of the door falls away.
Two men have the preacher against the wall as Kale pulls the girl from the bed to escort her to the door. “You run along and play. You’re not in trouble.”
“Yes, Kale.”
He waits for her footfalls to be out of earshot. “Even if you had her consent, I won’t condone the abuse of a child. Even my brother never touched little kids.” He nods.
His men jerk off the preacher’s pants.
“No. Don’t,” he whines.
“I won’t have this. But I wish to be known for mercy. We’ll take your left nut. Let you keep one as a reminder you still have more to lose.”
The steel shrivels his body as the blade draws blood from the wrinkled skin under his flaccid shaft.
“Your brother’s dead!”
Kale halts his cut. The blade remains against the scrotum. “I’ve no time for your lies. Nothing you say will spare you. We won’t harvest children here.”
“I’ll show you.” His tear flow matches the blood trickle down the crevasse between his legs, wetting the sheets.
“Show me what?”
The preacher limps, his pants wet from blood. The small drilling cut must have nicked a vein. A few seconds before the blade crossed his balls, most of his blood was flowing to his crotch. John has no idea how he’d walk normal again if Kale finished the cut. The little runt, compared to his brothers, may have brains over muscle, but he doesn’t fail in knife skills either. It was close to surgical.
He staggers down the trail, too well-worn to be used by wild game, to a cave behind a spring-fed pond. John rounds a cleft of granite rock, leaning against the cold stone, wishing for an ice pack. Rocks hang out, creating a low-lying ledge. He picks a tuft of hair from a crack in the rock.
Cattle. They must drink here.
“Move.”
A rifle butt slaps his ass. Pain radiates, numbing his leg and his stride.
After a few good rains, the broken, muddy earth would return to normal, and no one would ever find the tire tracks of the truck parked there.
I wish I’d had the good sense to bash in their faces when I knocked holes in their skulls.
“What happened to them?” Kale demands.
“They were sent back by to report. Kaleb left for Memphis after the man who killed your other brothers.”
“How do you know he’s dead?” Kale asks.
“I don’t, but needed your attention to keep my balls.”
Kale points at the truck. “Who killed them?”
John draws in a breath.
“If I ask again, I cut.”
Before the apocalypse, John might have conned his way out, but in this new world, his grift won’t work on the rubes. “Mary shot them. She had me hide the bodies.”
“Chances are Kaleb encountered the herd marching on the Boot Heel. If it doesn’t kill him, it will be a long journey to
avoid them. Why does Mary trust you?”
“I knew her before the plague.”
Kale nods. “You’ve played this game before. She’s ingratiated herself with many of my workers, and those loyal to Kaleb. So I can’t kill her.”
“She’s good at that.”
“How well did you know her?” Kale demands. He pokes his knife toward John.
“Before the end, she and I were once lovers,” John says.
“You’re such a dedicated man of the cloth.”
“I’m not. It was a means to eat. People sought every favor they could from God, including feeding a pastor, just in case.”
Kale contemplates how to turn his information to his advantage.
“Does this mean she’s not married to Kaleb?” one of the flunkies asks.
Kale jabs the knife into the man’s face. Before the second reacts, he meets with a bullet. “Both were loyal to my brother more than me. I must get rid of her, and if you enjoy breathing, tell me everything about Mary. Starting with her real name.”
“THERE’S NO MORE government, sweetheart.” Kade Bowlin flings open the kitchen drawer, rattling all the metal utensils inside. He draws out a butcher knife. “And even if there was, no one will ever find out what I’m going to do to you.” He slams Lindsey’s torso against the kitchen table. “After I’ve satisfied my urges, I’ll put a bullet in your brain and burn your body.”
Useless—all her training as a federal agent fails to provide her an escape against this man’s strength and power, even if her hands weren’t secure in her own cuffs. His vice grip clamped around her ankles proves she’s no match. He cuffs each of her limbs to the table legs.
“The nice thing about this is I don’t have to restrain myself on you like I have to with those girls at Fort Wood.” He spears the dull knife through the fabric of her jacket, cutting and tugging until the threads rip.
He drives the blade into the wooden table, grips the ends of the jacket, and pulls, shredding the material. It scares Lindsey into screams.
No Room In Hell (Book 3): Aftershocks Page 10
