by Stu Jones
“What’s going on?”
“We’re coming. Open the gate, and be ready to bar it shut after we get in. Prepare the station to repel an attack!”
“An attack from who?” Courtland replied, the concern heavy on his brow as he waited for an answer. Dagen was blowing the emergency air horn from the roof of the station. Courtland realized he was holding his breath as he listened to Kane’s voice break in a wash of static.
“Sicks. They’re coming.”
Courtland’s voice bellowed into the heavy night air as the residents of the station scuttled about, their confusion transforming to fear upon their hearing the words of the giant man.
“All capable men and women, take up position along the fence line. Grab a pike on your way to your position. Children and those incapable of fighting, take cover inside the station.”
Frantic, the people moved from the station doors as one of the men handed out makeshift spears and pikes. Jenna, followed by several older women, herded a group of children back toward the station as the headlights of the speeding Jeep crested the hill and descended toward the front gate.
“Open the gate, then prepare to close it!” Courtland yelled, as the nervous guards began to pull the gates open.
The Jeep hit the bottom of the slope with such force that the suspension completely bottomed out. The vehicle bounced and jostled as it shot through the gate, sliding to a stop inside the compound. Kane got out, securing his handgun in the front of his pants, and took a pike from Courtland. Both men headed toward the fence line.
Waving his arm over his head, Kane yelled, “Get all the floodlights on. I want this place to look like it’s daytime!”
A moment later the emergency floodlights came on with a snap and a buzz, bathing the entire station in white light.
“Everyone hold your position on the fence. We may be about to repel a group of mutants.” Kane was still trying to catch his breath.
The people in the courtyard squirmed at this news. A few swore under their breath. Many at the station had encountered had past experience with Sicks, and most hadn’t enjoyed the experience.
“These things can climb like crazy, so we can’t let them get over this fence,” Kane said. In demonstration he rammed his pike through the chain link several times in succession. “If just one of those things gets in here, it’s going to be a major problem for everybody. Keep an eye on the person next to you and give that person a hand if they need it. Use firearms only as a last resort. We don’t want to attract any more attention than we have to. That’s it. Now tighten up!”
Silence fell over the compound as the group waited with bated breath. Some of the men and women along the fence line fidgeted, wringing their sweating hands. Kane and Courtland watched as several darkened forms came into view, standing on the low ridgeline in front of the station in the fading light. Hunched and feral, the silhouettes swayed shoulder to shoulder, about a few hundred feet up the embankment from the gate. Kane estimated about fifteen of them total. Though fifteen didn’t sound like a lot, he knew his group didn’t consist of many trained warriors. Those fifteen monsters could tear Kane’s people apart if they got inside the walls of the compound.
Kane found himself thinking about Tynuk, hoping that the boy and his companion were alright. Kane resolved to offer his deepest thanks to the boy for saving his life—if he ever saw him again.
A minute passed and then another. The two groups observed each other in total silence, waiting for all hell to break loose. The piercing shriek of an odd whistle broke the stillness. The ethereal sound went from high to low, high to low, a pattern Kane instantly recognized as the same sound he had heard in the woods earlier. The call reminded him of the mutant leader with the bone flute around his neck. It was a battle call, some form of communication.
One by one, at the edge of the light, the shadowed figures drifted from view until only one remained. It was taller than the rest and stood just a little straighter. In fact it resembled a man much more than the rest, and Kane knew it was the same creature he had encountered in the woods earlier. He squinted his eyes at that last dark figure, which stood for a moment longer before disappearing. A collective sigh of relief rose from the crowd.
“Yeah!” the guy named Erickson called out. “They knew not to screw with us!”
The crowd murmured; some laughed while others slapped each other on the back or gave each other hugs. They had avoided bloody conflict with the monsters, and the resulting sense of relief was nearly palpable.
“Well,” Courtland said, looking at Kane. “That could have gone worse.”
“I don’t know.” Kane paused as he mulled the scene over in his head. “For a bunch of deranged mutants, that was way too organized, too calculated. They don’t act like that—at least they didn’t used to.”
“What do you mean?”
Kane took a long measured breath before he answered reluctantly. “I think they’re testing our defensive measures.”
NINE
Chained up like a dog.
Susan had thought her life couldn’t get any worse, but now she knew she’d been mistaken. She moved into a sitting position and adjusted the shackles around her ankles. Though primitive, they were solid steel and were connected to a diesel engine block. The abrasive metal bands constricted and cut small, bloody grooves into the flesh of her ankles when she moved. She leaned to her right and picked up the ceramic bowl, tipping it to her face and probing with her lips for any remaining drops of water. Nothing. She licked her lips and tossed the bowl in frustration. She was chained up like a thirsty dog. At least before, she had maintained some freedom, access to necessities, and most important, access to her children. She hadn’t seen them in days. Knowing that Garrett had locked them up somewhere caused her stomach to cramp with nausea.
It had been only a few days since Saxon caught her trying to call for help from Garrett’s truck, but it felt like an eternity. Seeing the knife to her son’s throat had caused her to squawk like a parrot. Now her captors knew everything. They knew about the radio station just up the coast, that the group there controlled significant resources, and that Kane, her husband, was with them. And now that she and her children had become prisoners, Susan feared they somehow would be used as leverage against Kane, used in some plot of extortion. Her future was becoming bleaker by the moment, and now she had endangered her children and her dear husband, who didn’t even know they were still alive. She had no idea how things would play out. What she did know deep in her heart was that Garrett had no intention of releasing her. Not as long as he lived.
Kane pushed through the doors into the medical bay and made his way across the room to the teen lying on his back on a cot. Kane smiled and gave Jenna a wave as he passed. Jacob roused at his approach.
“How’s it hanging, tough guy?”
Jacob smirked. “Shouldn’t you be watching for monsters?”
“I’ve got plenty of people on watch for now. The Sicks seem to have taken off, so I figured I’d come and check on my stubborn teen. What’s the status?”
“Knee hurts, but I’ve been worse.”
“Yeah, well, considering you could have been mutant food, I think you’re doing all right.” Kane chuckled and patted Jacob’s shoulder. “Still ugly as sin, but all right.”
“Whatever,” said Jacob, rolling his eyes.
“It would’ve been nice to bag that buck, though.”
“Too bad you screwed up the shot.”
“Sure, sure. You stumbling into a drooling pack of vicious mutants had nothing to do with losing that kill.”
Jacob shrugged and smiled.
“Better luck next time, eh? I just wanted to check on you and wish you a speedy recovery, bud.”
Kane turned to leave but was stopped by Jacob, who grabbed his jacket. “Kane, we mess with each other a lot and don’t say a lot of serious words…”
“Yeah.”
“I screwed up today. I shouldn’t have run off like that. I could hav
e gotten us both killed.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Kane smiled and tousled the teen’s hair. “But one thing about being a kid is you can do some seriously stupid stuff and get away with it.”
“It’s just…” the boy started, his words tangled in his throat. “You fought those things so I could get away…and…that’s about the best thing anyone ever did for me.”
Kane rested his hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “That’s what friends are for.”
“No, that’s something more. And if you ever need me, I’ll be here for you too.”
“I appreciate that, buddy.” Kane winked. “Now get some rest.”
“I will—if you get some target practice.”
“Yeah, sure.” Kane rolled his eyes and turned to walk over to Jenna.
“Hey,” she said, as he walked up. “I put Jacob on ibuprofen for the swelling. I think his knee is just twisted.”
“Yeah, well, his snarky little attitude is still intact.”
“What do you expect?” Jenna said, smiling. “He’s seventeen.”
“I know, right?”
“Did you need something else?”
“Yeah, I do actually. Courtland and I would like you to sit down with us to talk about a few issues tonight. Would you be up for that?”
Jenna made a face. “What kind of issues?”
“Just stuff that affects all of us here at the station. We’d appreciate your opinion.”
Jenna nodded. “Well, yeah, sure. I can do that.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Kane said, as he made his way to the medical bay doors. “The main office in ten minutes.”
Kane entered the main office to find Courtland already seated in the warm glow of a multi-fuel lantern. Courtland was busy cleaning his pocketknife with a ragged handkerchief. As Kane approached, Courtland kept his head down, continuing to focus on the blade in his hands.
“Hey, big man,” Kane said as he sat down.
“Mr. Lorusso.”
“Look, I feel the need to apologize for the other morning when I snapped at you about always having the answers…or something. It was rude of me. I’m sorry.”
Courtland looked up from the knife. “What brought this about?”
“I dunno. I guess since I almost got killed today, I realized I would’ve died having been a jerk to one of the only people in this world who still cares about me.”
Courtland smiled. “It was a little rude.”
“Well, I’m done groveling, so take it for what it’s worth.”
“You were stressed. Fair enough. Apology accepted,” Courtland said, folding his knife up. “Speaking of almost getting killed today…”
“Yeah?”
“What happened?”
Kane sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Long story, but I was with the kid—”
“Jacob.”
“Yup. And we had a buck, man. A buck! He was gorgeous. Who knows how it survived, but it was there, right in front of us. I took the shot, the wind gusted, the buck flinched, and it took a bullet in the gut. The kid is impulsive, so he took off after it, slipped down a hill, and twisted his knee.”
Courtland huffed.
“Yeah, so we stumbled right into a bunch of Sicks. Right into them. And man, these aren’t the monsters I remember. They’ve adapted or evolved or something. They’re more organized and methodical and more…human—if devolving and re-evolving again is a thing. I sure as hell don’t know.”
“Humph,” Courtland mumbled, deep in thought.
“I don’t know, Court. I was scared to death. There was one that was leading them or controlling them or something. It was very strange. And they had us, man. They had us…”
“Well, what happened?”
“Tynuk happened,” Kane answered, his tone matter-of-fact.
Courtland smiled. “The boy is impressive, isn’t he?”
“I almost didn’t run—I was so busy watching him work. That kid has to be seen to be believed—that beast of his too. Those two are something else.”
“Sounds like it. Are they okay?”
“I sure hope so. They saved our skins. I need to thank them for that.”
Courtland nodded. “I’m sure they’re fine. Like you said, he’s pretty incredible.”
“I remember when I met them for the first time when you and I were captured that time,” Kane began, a smirk on his face.
“With Vincent’s group?”
“Yeah, man. I didn’t know what to think of them. And now here they are, saving my life.”
“And what was it you said about the Sicks being led or…controlled?”
“I can’t explain it. They all protected this one like he was a commander or something. And just now, up on the hill, he was there. He was the last man standing on the ridge, with the whistle and all.”
“Whistle?”
“Right. That whistle we heard when they took off, I heard it before in the forest. It was some sort of bone flute or whistle. He uses it to communicate or to control the others, to get them to form up or attack or retreat.”
“But weren’t they like zombies?”
“Yeah, but don’t use that term. It’s misleading. They’re nothing like Hollywood zombies. Plus now they’ve changed like I said. Evolved or mutated into something else.”
“Like what?”
“Man, I don’t know. I guess more like feral ghouls…or like—and I’m being deadly serious—goblins out of one of those Lord of the Rings movies.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, definitely not. I can’t explain it to you.”
The two men sat in silence for a long moment before Courtland spoke again.
“And you think tonight they were testing our defensive measures?”
Kane nodded. “I do.”
“Why?”
“To hit us later, when we’re weak, sleepy, distracted. I don’t know.”
“You think they’re that calculated about it?”
“It scares me to death, but yeah, I do.”
“Only time will tell, I guess. Let’s hope you’re wrong, for everyone’s sake.”
Kane nodded. “And what was the deal with Mico’s search party?”
Courtland shrugged. “They never came back.”
“Nothing? No radio contact? No idea at all about what happened?”
“I did send a scout, Greg, out on a dirt bike. He checked the area but couldn’t locate anyone. No truck, no goods, no Mico, no group. All Greg found was a pool of blood in the middle of one of the streets, but no bodies or anything.”
“Could be anything—bandits or Sicks—but that doesn’t mean the blood even belongs to our people.”
“Sure. But what if it does?”
“What are you getting at?” Kane said, adjusting his position in the seat.
“I can’t shake the feeling that the blood is theirs—or what’s left of them.”
“And…?”
“Kane, have you considered that it could be the Coyotes?”
Kane’s eyes grew wide. “Malak’s Coyotes?”
Courtland nodded.
“Oh come on, Court. I don’t think so. That freak show and his goons are gone.”
“You think so, Kane? He was a gangster. We wrecked everything he built. Not to mention the fact that he had some sort of demon living inside him. You’ve got to think he’d want revenge for that kind of offense, for what we cost him.”
“Assuming he’s alive somehow.”
“He’s alive. We never saw a body.”
Kane chewed the thought over before shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s it. It’s much more likely that if something happened to our people, it was totally random.”
“I just can’t shake it.”
“You actually think it’s him—or them? The Coyotes?”
“Kane, I have this unnerving feeling that Malak wants us. Like he’s going to come for us again.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know. I just…I feel
it, like an ache in my bones.”
Kane remained silent.
“When I tangled with it, with him, upstairs, I could feel Malak’s desire like a sickness in my heart. It wanted to corrupt, to destroy. More than anything, it wanted to see us dead—or worse, to make us slaves to the darkness. I just think that if he is alive, he wouldn’t give it up that easily.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but right now I’m not sure it’s really a concern. We’ve got other priorities—”
“Other priorities? This is the guy who murdered Molly.”
Kane froze, the blood draining from his face. He felt exhausted, frustrated. “You think I don’t remember that?” he said. “She died in my arms! You think I forgot? That I could ever forget that?”
Courtland put up his hand, an act of submission. “Look, brother, I’m sorry, but we need to consider this to be a serious possibility.”
Kane took a few deep breaths to compose himself. “Sure,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as the office door opened. “We’ll talk about it later.” Kane turned toward Jenna and Dagen as they approached.
“Hey, um…” Kane motioned toward Dagen with a questioning look.
“I invited him,” Jenna said.
“Okay, but we’re going to talk about some sensitive stuff. I don’t think Dagen should sit in.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t want him to sit in on this, that’s all.”
“Hey,” Dagen broke in. “You can talk to me since I’m in the room. Talk to my face instead of behind my back like you usually do.”
Kane’s tone darkened. “Yeah, fine. So I don’t trust you. You’ve been allowed to live here because certain people vouch for you,” he said, glancing at Jenna. “Why? I have no earthly idea, especially after what you did.”
“Kane—” Jenna started when Dagen stopped her.
“No, no. Let him say it. It’s what everyone’s thinking anyway.”
Kane looked around the room then raised his hands. “Am I wrong? This guy is a sadistic piece of scum, and you want him here with us. Nobody else has a problem with this?”
The room was silent except for the droning, constant hiss of the lantern.
“I’m not that person anymore,” Dagen said quietly.
“Come on,” Kane scoffed, rolling his eyes.
