Sol Survivors | Book 2 | Nashville Nightmare

by Benton, Ken

  But there Joel brought his weapon to his eye and yelled, “Freeze!” at someone.

  Mick quickly joined him in the stance. It took Sammy another ten seconds to arrive, point his pistol in the same direction, and a few additional seconds to focus on the figure of a skinny young man crouching in the nook of the bridge with his hands above his head. That’s when Sammy recognized him.

  “Chili?” Sammy asked.

  “Rabbit,” Chili said. “Did you actually win?’”

  Sammy lowered his weapon. “I did.”

  “I meant the singing contest,” Chili clarified.

  “I know. I won it. Legitimately.”

  Chili shook his head in undisguised amazement. “That last song sounded terrible when I was leaving.”

  Sammy opened his mouth to say “It improved” but Mick said it first. Sammy tilted his head at Mick, who now also lowered his weapon.

  Joel held his steady.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chili’s eyes darted among the three of them. Sammy couldn’t help but feel an undeniable satisfaction at having turned the tables on his captor.

  “I can lead you out,” Chili said, obviously fearing Joel the most. “I know the safe routes. I’m leaving the city, too.”

  “We know how to get back,” Joel answered coldly.

  “Back to the rabbit hole?” Chili asked looking at Sammy.

  No one responded.

  Chili shook his head. “It’s not as simple as following the railroad tracks. That’s good for a short stretch, but…”

  “But what?” Joel said.

  “I’m unarmed now, thanks to you. I just need safe passage, in case … it’s a good deal for both of us. Have me walk in front if you’re worried.”

  “Unless you lead us into an ambush,” Joel answered.

  “Letting him go isn’t a great idea, either,” Mick said.

  Joel eyed Mick in a way that communicated respect for his point made. Sammy looked out at the rain again. It had let up some, but would still soak the one of them who didn’t wear a jacket. Chili’s denim coat would be better protection than nothing, but Sammy would rather drown than wear something which came off of him—and he was certain Joel and Mick felt the same way.

  Chili spoke again. “If you guys came to rescue the rabbit, I figure you arrived in a car. And I’m guessing you parked it by the rabbit hole, looking for him. I have no idea who told you he’d been taken to the hall, but someone was evidently nearby watching when we did. That’s the thing about this city at night. Someone is always nearby watching, even when you don’t see them. It will be a miracle if your car is still there and drivable. I can lead you back by the safest route, believe me—that’s how we were able to come and catch the rabbit. But the ground is getting muddy so I wouldn’t wait much longer.”

  “He’s right about that,” Joel said to Mick. “So do we let him walk point, or shoot him here?”

  Sammy watched Mick form a bitter expression at the suggestion of an outright murder. But Mick was the one who correctly pointed out it was too dangerous to let him go, since he knew where the three of them were headed and could likely get there ahead of them, potentially with another posse. Sammy became aware that his own face remained expressionless at the idea of killing his former captor. He was pretty sure he was against the idea of it, though.

  They ended up deciding to let Chili lead the way, with the condition that he stay close. Any sudden movement to escape would result in him becoming target practice for three different guns. Chili readily agreed. They set out to cross the railroad tracks and headed into the woods. Sammy didn’t think Chili would try to run. He seemed desperate and displaced.

  The way through the woods had the advantage of giving some rain protection. That was good for Joel, as Sammy still wore his jacket. But the muddy ground proved slippery and made for slow going, especially for Sammy and his golf-club crutch. Mick brought up the rear and twice reached to steady Sammy during the first hundred yards when he slipped.

  They came out and walked on the train tracks a short ways before going back into the trees. Sammy asked to stop and rest several times, so it took what felt like the better part of an hour before they reached the next bridge. But they did reach it, just as another torrent of sheet rain drenched them.

  This was the bridge Sammy and Mick jumped from. Sammy knew they were close to where Joel and Mick must have parked. But they rested under the bridge nevertheless. For one thing, it was raining ridiculously hard.

  For another, the noise from the nearby city had grown into something apocalyptic. People could be heard shrieking amongst occasional gunfire that sounded much closer now than when Sammy had been holed up. He thought he heard strange shouts among the screams, including “The wrath of the prophet!” and “They’re coming, they’re coming, to kill everyone!”

  Sammy also noticed lights moving in the eastern sky, and pointed them out to Joel.

  “Gotta be army helicopters,” Joel said. “In the vicinity of our favorite gas station, I’d wager. I can’t believe they’re flying in this weather, but both those and the storm are blessings when it comes to having to get past that place again.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Mick said. “Seeing as you were right about the ambush on the westbound lanes, and they may have seen us go by, trying to run by them again at night might be pushing our luck. Maybe it’s best to wait and leave at daybreak. This is a defensible position, and we can guard the car reasonably well from this spot, too. Maybe then take the southern way around instead, like we talked about.”

  “So stay a few more cozy hours here?” Joel motioned towards the city sounds.

  “Well if not here,” Mick said, “maybe we can find a spot at the airport to take up a position at. I’m just thinking about avoiding the next ambush waiting for us on I-40, and having the benefit of daylight—and possibly better weather—while driving an unknown route through the outskirts of this city.”

  “You are thinking cool and rationally,” Joel replied. “Which I should appreciate, but every fiber of my being is anxious to get the hell out at the next slight letup in the rain.”

  “Oh mine too,” Mick admitted. “Especially after what happened to Kendal.”

  Joel frowned at Mick. “Why should that affect our decision?”

  Chili spoke. “Kendal? So it’s true? The prophet was killed?”

  Joel and Mick both only stared at him.

  Chili shook his head. “Then we should get the hell out of here ASAP, like you said.”

  “We?” Joel said.

  “I gave you safe passage. Now I’m hoping you will return the favor.”

  Joel pointed his AR at Chili. “I’m trying to decide whether we should draw straws to determine who shoots you, or if we should all do it at once.”

  “No,” Sammy said. “Don’t.”

  Joel and Mick both turned to him.

  Sammy shrugged. “He helped me.”

  “Helped you how?” Joel asked.

  “He helped me not hurt my leg any worse, and helped me walk.”

  “You mean when he captured you at gunpoint?”

  “Sammy,” Mick said. “He was going to eat you. You know that, right?”

  “Well he didn’t, and he was nicer to me than some of them. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’ve already killed one of my captors, someone who also treated me decently. And I’m not happy about it.”

  “Jimbo?” Chili asked.

  Sammy nodded. Chili’s face grew sad and he stared at the ground.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Sammy said. “He came at us with his shotgun. Though he was too far away for that thing to hit us, I still had to put him down so we could get off the stage.”

  Chili nodded. “He had slugs in that, and was a good shot. He could have gotten you.”

  Mick raised his voice. “Sammy, snap out of it. You’re not talking rationally, and feeling sorry for people who wanted to kill you, cook you, and literally chew the flesh off your bones.
”

  “No I’m not, Mick. Not really. I’m not losing my marbles. Don’t worry. But self-defense is one thing. I’m not ready to make the jump to revenge killing, especially when I’m not harboring any real hatred for the person.” Sammy looked back at Chili. “It’s hard to explain. But it’s like, what they did to me was nothing personal. They treated me in a way that would not violate the Geneva Convention, from their own perspective at least.”

  “Except for executing you and eating you, you mean.”

  “There’s a bigger issue,” Joel said to intervene. “Once a person goes cannibal, they have irreversibly become a danger to everyone. That’s why the Russians shot all the cannibals they caught in the prison camps after Stalingrad. If we let him live, it puts innocent lives in danger.”

  “That’s not true,” Chili said. “I don’t crave it or anything. It’s just what everyone does here. And the way we hear it told the Russians also ate each other during the Leningrad siege.”

  “What everyone does here,” Joel repeated in outright disgust. “You kidnap people, pit them against each other in freak-show contests, and arbitrarily decide who the loser is, to murder, so you can gnaw on their human flesh. That’s what everyone does here. I hope the army actually is coming in to kill everyone in this godforsaken place.”

  Mick spoke. “Um … that would currently include us.”

  “I’m not shooting him,” Sammy said. “Count me out of your drawing, which I think is every bit as gruesome as the contest they forced me into. Whichever one of you shoots him, I’m not sure I can even look at you the same way afterwards. Can’t we make him swim across the river instead? Or tie him up?”

  “I won’t cooperate with either of those plans,” Chili responded. “At least when we snuff someone, we do it quickly. I’d rather be shot than drown or suffer the fate of anyone discovered tied up and helpless by one of the rival gangs.”

  “That’ your choice to make,” Joel said.

  Chili tried unsuccessfully to light a wet cigarette and then pointed it at Joel instead. “Let the record show that you’re the lying bastard who broke his word and reneged on a deal, not me.”

  “We had no deal. I don’t recall shaking your hand.”

  “Sure we did. I was to lead you back to the rabbit hole in exchange for the safety of numbers in going with you. Besides, I am so disgusting in your sight, would you even shake my hand?”

  “You have a point there,” Joel replied. “But the so-called deal, by your own description, has now completed. We don’t need you to lead us the last fifty yards.”

  “I have a point the other way, too. You’re all from the country, where the living is easy. We are in a completely different world here, which you feel superior to and think you are justified in passing judgment against, never having had to learn to live in it. Not to mention the fact you are diurnals, who are naturally repulsed by noctos to add more fuel to your fire. I was fair to the rabbit and even helped him, as he said, the best anyone in my situation could have.”

  “Joel,” Mick said looking out. “The rain is letting up.”

  Chili finally succeeded in lighting his wet cigarette and took a drag, still glaring at Joel.

  “We had a deal.”

  * * *

  Lanny drifted in and out of sleep on the uncomfortable cot in the back of the garage. That was something of an accomplishment considering all the activity outside. After his earlier conversation with the general, troop transport trucks began showing up and parking on the roads by the station. They were sealed up tight, which probably meant they were bringing diurnal troops to the scene. Whatever they were doing in Nashville, it was major.

  What unfortunate timing. And what a fiasco the last 24 hours had been. Lanny kept running it through his mind, trying to figure out what he should have done differently.

  He’d been told to acquire diesel-powered passenger vehicles. That they’d been doing reasonably well from this location. Easier than other locations, to be sure, because of its proximity to Nashville. The car owners by and large accepted the forcibly-presented trade offers just to be able to keep driving and leave the area quickly. Sure, many of the trade vehicles had been obtained by dastardly means, but anyone driving into the dump had a short life expectancy anyway. The business model made sense from all economic standpoints.

  So they couldn’t be blamed for employing the standard tactic when the black diesel truck showed up yesterday. Until that point everything was normal. It’s when those kids got the drop on them that things started going wrong. Even then Lanny’s crew couldn’t be blamed, as the dark-haired one turned out to be surprisingly shrewd. Lanny’s guys lost the short gunfight, but only one man had been grazed by two buckshot pellets. Lanny successfully blocked their exit so they couldn’t get away eastward.

  After that, things were mostly out of his hands. Sending two men after them into the dump is what Baker would have expected him to do—even if one was slightly incompetent—in an effort to acquire a premium vehicle. And also to let those kids know they’d screwed with the wrong crew. If Lanny let them get away clean, he’d have to answer for that.

  It was in sending the second vehicle where his decisions could start to be questioned, after getting fooled by the kid who bested them and escaped back out eastward in their own car. Still, what was Lanny supposed to do? Accept defeat and lose a vehicle in addition to the likelihood of losing two men? Giving chase was the only reasonable action, especially since even at this hour hope still existed for retrieving both vehicles. Those guys in the SUV were good men who usually got dirty jobs done.

  When they did return, they’d discover a hornet’s nest. By now the army had likely turned a five-square-mile area around the station into a damn military zone, and probably had the interstate sealed off farther out than that. The boys wouldn’t be able to get back without giving the right answers at a checkpoint. Hopefully they’d be smart enough to avoid it and head south instead, to report directly to Baker.

  It appeared the army’s intention was to clean up the demon’s dump. That would have been fine, if it wasn’t for the fact they were destroying the business of this gas station in the process. Whatever compensation the army paid for the fuel they appropriated wouldn’t be anywhere near the underground market prices the vouchers commanded. It could also create an oversold condition for the vouchers, reducing the overall profits of the operation. And vehicle acquisitions from this location would cease for as long as the soldiers remained, which would doubtlessly be far too long.

  Baker’s network did have more than fifteen other locations now. Truth be told, Lanny wouldn’t miss this one. It would be nice not to have to come here for a spell.

  Lanny thought he detected the first hints of darkness lightening through a partially-covered window pane. Some new commotion up front sounded like it involved the general. He decided to get up and go to the office.

  “Ah, Mr. Smoker,” the general’s voice said before Lanny could sit down. “Good timing. The top drawer of your desk is locked. Open it for us, please.”

  “May I ask why?” Lanny said rubbing his eyes. “This is a private business.”

  “It was a private business pre-Helios. It was a semi-private business before we arrived tonight. I’ll answer you not because I have to, but because it amuses me to do so. We found some evidence on that body at the substation which links him to your operation, and I’m betting the one locked drawer may provide corroborating evidence.”

  “I told you before, General. I’m a guest. The owner is away.”

  “No, that is not in fact what you said,” General Deatherage replied. “You disclosed that this property is part of a network under your supervision.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “You called it a franchise, Mr. Smoker. And you are from the franchise headquarters, representing them. That’s enough to place you in charge, and responsible for crimes committed at what would appear to be your directive. Hell, I don’t rightly believe the gas statio
n owner is above you, if there even is such a stooge. So open the drawer, please.”

  “You’re wrong, General. I do not have authority here, nor any knowledge about the dead electrician, nor any connection with whatever may be in the drawer, nor a key to it. And it’s starting to sound like I should be talking to a lawyer instead of you.”

  “You see this?” the general held up a stack of index cards held together by a rubber band.

  Lanny tilted his head at them.

  “The dead man had these in his possession. If he is an electrician, why is he holding cards full of numbers which all have your black eagle symbol stamped at the top? All I have to do is find a matching list of numbers in this office to all but confirm he was an associate of yours acting under your authority in vandalizing the substation. Now, I could force the drawer open. But instead I’m going to ask you to stand with your hands above your head while my captain searches you.”

  Lanny felt his facial expression droop as another soldier responded and approached him. He raised his hands and kept his mouth shut. The captain found the desk key in the first pocket he searched. Within another twenty seconds the general held a matching roster of gas voucher numbers taken from the top of the drawer.

  “Mr. Smoker, you are under arrest.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Major Tillman could tell by the reaction of the squad he’d been assigned that the men thought the tarp of the transport truck had been pulled open too early. It was still pretty dark out, partly because storm clouds now shrouded the eastern sky. At least it’d stopped raining.

  His soldiers filed out towards a mess area established in an open lot behind the gas station. Tarps covered long rows of tables surrounding a central field kitchen which already emitted the smoke and scent of cooking food. The diurnal soldiers’ fear of the remaining night air would no doubt be offset by their certain hunger.

  That and the adrenaline from being only partially briefed on the details of the operation they’d been rushed into. By the time they finished eating, and hopefully received clarification on their orders, the gray light of the morning crossover period would be upon them. By then the many large tents being erected as sleeping quarters in the nearby fields would be ready to receive the nocturnal squads. Tillman’s men looked forward to not sleeping in a moving truck tonight as well.