Haven From Hell (Book 2): Warrior's Chronicle

by Won, Mark

  My first thought was that Mayor Callow had set me up. Racism aside, though, that didn’t make much sense. If the mayor had wanted to murder me, why let me get this far? Despite the humble appearance of my pursuers, I had the feeling they were excellent shots with the weapons they were carrying. They could have lain in wait a hundred yards away and opened fire as soon a the mayor drove away. Maybe they were just stupid. I’d have to ask them.

  I could easily have flanked the three stooges, except that the dog already knew right where I was. I decided to move away from them at a fair pace while keeping my eye open for a nice ambush spot. I knew that I had passed a couple on my way through those woods the previous day. Eventually, I reached a steeper place to my right that I was able to circle around take position in. There was plenty of thicket to act as cover. Then I waited, keeping all my senses sharp in case they caught on and tried to reverse the ambush.

  Again, I could smell them before I could see them. Before I had thought it some kind of weird fluke, but no, they really did smell that bad. They came closer through the trees, and by the time they were under my hiding spot my eyes were watering like I was cutting an onion.

  I stood up and shouted, “Damn, you guys stink!” That wasn’t what I’d meant to say but it just sort of popped out. I decided to try again.

  “Don’t you move. Don’t even breathe.” Actually, I was having a little trouble breathing, myself.

  They were careful. They went from a bunch of dumb hicks out on a hunt to statues in under a second. The dog had turned on me and had begun to growl menacingly.

  “Drop the guns or I drop you.” They dropped their firearms like they had suddenly turned into snakes.

  “Now, why are you following me?” If the stench got any worse I’d have to shoot them in the interests of personal survival.

  The man holding the dog back said, “We weren’t following you. We were just out hunting.”

  I knew that was a lie. There was no way they would have taken such a circuitous route to my ambush spot unless they were specifically on my trail. I had chosen it with that in mind.

  I said, “Last chance to come clean. Talk or die.”

  They could tell that I wasn’t lying. The gap toothed one spoke first, “The mayor wanted to know for sure if you were tellin’ the truth. He sent us to follow you back to your friends and watch you drive off.”

  “And if I’d been lying, what then? What were you to do then?” As if I didn’t already know.

  None of them answered. If I didn’t represent a potential profit then they might as well kill me and steal my stuff. Now I had a problem. If I sent them back the mayor would know I couldn’t trust him (after all, he did have me followed). Trade cannot flourish without trust. On the other hand, if I shot them all where they stood, the mayor would undoubtedly suspect foul play. What to do, what to do?

  I asked them, “Why do you guys stink so bad?” I was inclined to just let them go. My men and I would swing around and pick up the Parker’s as planned and continue to trade with Flag Town. To hell with Mayor Callow.

  They looked at each other with honestly confused expressions. Clearly, they couldn’t smell themselves. The one with the patchy half beard said, “You can smell us?”

  I told them, “That’s how I knew you were following me. I’m surprised you’re dog was even able to keep my sent with you three holding the leash. Drop your backpacks, empty your pockets, and back off.” They did so.

  “Tell the mayor that the deal’s off. It’s a matter of trust, and I just lost mine. Now go.”

  They got. My plan was to give them a head start and then follow. I wanted to overhear what they had to say so as to ascertain any potential future threat. Once they were well away I quickly climbed down the ledge and opened up their packs. There were no spare clothes, soap, or toilet paper (big surprise), only a little food and a few plastic bottles of water. Just enough to be suitable for a short trip. As I was poking around their stuff I came across some dried meat. I picked it up because of its curious shape.

  It was a human hand.

  I was so quick to get rid of it that I sort of tossed the appendage like a frisbee. It flew about three feet and landed, palm up. I was quick to get a small bottle of rubbing alcohol out of my pack and gave my hands a thorough washing. Then I picked up a shotgun and quickly checked its functionality. After making sure the thing would fire I began stalking the hicks. I felt like I should have shot them when I had the chance.

  It didn’t take long for me to catch up with them. Their aroma gave them away. They were blundering along, making no attempt to remain silent. Even their dog was oblivious to my hunt.

  That’s when I overheard one of them saying, “That was a close one, Billy Ray. I thought he was gonna shoot us sure! Wonder why he didn’t.”

  Billy Ray (presumably) replied, “‘Cause he dumb like all black folks, that’s why. Still, it was a quick lie Harris gave out about the mayor. Good thinking.”

  The one I took to be Harris proudly spoke up, “I know, right? It just came to me. Blame the mayor.”

  Billy Ray said, “The best part is we got what we wanted anyway. Now he thinks the mayor don’t trust him, he’ll never trade with him. That leaves us top dog for finding stuff. The mayor needs us more than ever.”

  I found the whole train of the conversation pathetic. All that effort for a little respect in the eyes of a corrupt politician. The people of Shallow Ford were in desperate need of a new election.

  “Would you have really et him, Billy Ray?” That from the first speaker.

  “I don’t see why not, Buford. When I eat chicken I go for the dark meat same as the white.” Such subtle wit brought forth gales of laughter. Just what the world needs: cannibal humor.

  “Why did he say we stink, Billy Ray?” asked Buford. The poor man sounded offended.

  “I dunno,” he replied. “At first I thought he was just being insulting, you know, because darkies stink. But he seemed serious.” Peeking around a tree I saw him smell under his armpit.

  One of them farted loudly and exclaimed, “We smell as bad as that!?” More laughter.

  As enlightening as the whole conversation had been I was out of patience. I stepped out from cover and shot the dog dead. It had just about enough time to turn and face me before I put it down. I felt kind of bad about it, but I couldn’t take the chance of losing control of the animal while I transported the three cannibals back to camp. The odds were that they would sic the animal on me in some desperate attempt at escape, and I’d have to shoot the poor beast anyway. I know that I didn’t do the animal any favors, but it really did deserve better masters. Also, it had probably eaten human flesh.

  “Again, hold it right there. Sorry about your dog. You human garbage are coming with me. My plan is to get back to my friends, and then we’ll drive you back to town to explain your plans to the mayor. Now get on your knees.”

  Two of them began to drop but stopped when their leader, Billy Ray, refused. He said, “Damn you, I’m gonna kill you!” But he just stood there.

  Since I had just disarmed them, I emptied the magazine of the shotgun I was holding and moved forward. The three of them seemed so surprised they almost forgot to put up their dukes before I closed the distance. The fight was short and fun and amounted to me getting to blow off a little steam.

  I surveyed the broken wreckage of my enemies as I tied them to a length of rope. Broken noses, broken teeth, and, best of all, broken pride. After I regained my shotgun and reloaded it, I addressed them, “Get up and get moving! Move or I’ll cut your eyes out and leave you here to rot.” They moved. I took us back to where I had previously ambushed them and made them pick everything up. I forced them to carry all of it except the shotgun shells. Then I had them proceed me back to my friends.

  The guys were waiting for us along the side of the road. They had backed the buses up to an old farmhouse and parked them around back (we bring planks for just such a purpose since it wouldn’t do to get stuck in th
e mud). I had planned on having to walk for another couple hundred yards before attempting to contact them with the walkie talkie. They really should have backed off a bit farther. Next time I’d have to be clearer.

  Naturally they were curious about my prisoners. Sam ran to the road and was the first to speak, “Who are these guys?”

  Jake came running up next, “Are we in trouble?”

  I said, “No. Keep an eye on these cannibals. They’re dangerous. What’s the situation here?”

  Jake stepped up and gave me a simple report. They had encountered nothing unusual during my absence. It seemed that the area had been cleared of zombies before we had entered.

  I told each of my team leaders, “Jake, Henry, Albert: each of you take one of these man eaters into a separate building and question them about the surrounding countryside. Get any information you can about any other survivors, as well as information about any ammunition caches, or whatever else you can discover. These are the town’s ‘finders’. The ones they rely on to go get stuff. Don’t let them talk to each other.”

  To the three prisoners I said, “When your lies don’t agree, I’m going to beat you like a red headed step child. Then we’ll try again.”

  Sam asked, “Are they really cannibals?”

  I tossed him one of the packs they had been carrying and told him to look inside. Once he did he turned a pasty white and almost lost his lunch. By then everyone else was clustered around to take in the show.

  I asked, “Who the hell’s on watch?”

  Tisha, who used to be an emergency medical technician, answered, “Tony, Lincoln, and Noah are in the house keeping a lookout.” She was still looking expectantly at me for more information.

  Gavin, a former factory worker (and indifferent marksman), spoke up, “Is that whole town full of cannibals? Should we move farther away?”

  I said, “The town is not full of cannibals, and we are in no immediate danger. If we were I wouldn’t be taking time out for an interrogation, now would I?

  “As far as I know only those three eat people. They followed me out of town to kill me because I set up a trade deal with their mayor. They didn’t like the idea of the competition. Also, one of them wanted to eat a black man, but I think that was just a minor side advantage.” By then several others had inspected the contents of the pack which I had brought back.

  “Tisha, take Sam there and bury the contents of that pack and this one, will you?” I tossed them a second backpack. I made sure to keep the third pack for evidentiary purposes when I got those three cannibals back to town.

  By that time I decided to follow the team leaders and monitor the questioning. I was able to catch up to them before they’d split up to go to separate buildings and decided to follow Albert to see how he’d handle Billy Ray.

  Bruce, our chief doctor (and former neurosurgeon, or some such), wanted to know if he should be present to keep the ‘interrogation subjects’ conscious during questioning. I told him no. There was no need to waste resources on people I had no intention of letting live longer than a day or two, if I had my way (though I didn’t let Billy Ray hear me say that).

  We went off to a tool shed and I sat Billy Ray down on the floor with his back to a barrel. I tied him to it and let Albert get to work. Albert’s idea of an interrogation was to ask politely and wait for a civil response. Billy Ray’s response was to not respond. It was as if Billy Ray thought we were the police or something. I decided to step in.

  “Albert, I can see you don’t have the heart for this kind of evil work, so I think I’ll take over for now. You go back to the group and get everything organized. We’re going to pull out soon.”

  Billy Ray interjected, “Yeah, Albert, let the men talk. You go hang out with the womenfolk.”

  Albert said, “No, I want to stay. It’s just that I’ve never done anything like this before. I understand what needs to be done but I don’t know how to go about it.”

  “Well, I usually start with something like this, just to take my measure of the subject.” I took out my hammer and smashed one of Billy Ray’s fingers. Whatever defiance he’d manage to cobble together in the last few minutes just collapsed.

  I said, “Billy Ray, I know you killed Nolan and Josiah,” I knew nothing of the sort, anything could have happened to them, “but I don’t know specifics. Talk.” I raised my hammer for a second blow.

  With terror filled eyes Billy Ray began, “We lay in wait for them just north of the roadblock about a mile or so. It wasn’t my idea! That was all Buford. And when we shot them boys I was the one who said it was a bad idea. I didn’t even hit them. I shot to miss! I missed!”

  My eyes were beginning to tear up from the stench rolling off the man and Albert looked over to me, “Are you okay, Paul?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just the stink of this trash is almost more than I can bear.” Albert didn’t seem affected by the man’s aroma.

  That seemed odd, so I asked him, “Do you smell anything especially pungent about him, Albert?”

  Albert leaned over to me and whispered, “Is this part of the interrogation? I don’t know how to answer.” Obviously, Albert hadn’t noticed anything unusual about the man’s body odor. That was bad. It implied that either Albert was nose blind or I was suffering olfactory hallucinations.

  I leaned outside and called over everyone in earshot, about twenty of us altogether. I asked them all, “Have any of you noticed anything especially stinky about the prisoners? I know we all need showers, but, to me, these guys reek like a pet cemetery in a toilet.”

  The way everyone was just standing around looking confused told me the story. Obviously, I had a problem.

  “Okay, everybody back to work. Once we’re done here we have to deliver these cannibals back to the town.”

  I went back inside the shed and continued questioning Billy Ray until I was sure I’d squeezed any and all intelligence that he had to offer. Albert took notes. Then I went to check on Jake and Buford. Jake had decided to make use of the barn for his interrogation. What a mess. It looked like Buford had been beaten to a pulp. I took Jake outside the barn to compare notes.

  “He’s a mess. What did you learn?”

  Jake told me, “I got locations for all the stuff that him and his buddies had been saving up. It seems that their plan was to horde everything they found and dole it out only as necessary. We shouldn’t have any trouble picking all of it up. What should we do with him?” He motioned back to the barn.

  “We’re going to circle around and approach the town from the south. There’s a village there with a sick girl and her family. She needs insulin so they’ll be coming with us. Also, when Spring comes we can head back and trade with them for sulfur. The man in charge of the village is a doctor. I think that we’ll leave the cannibals with him. It seems that they murdered a couple of his friends. I have one confession but I’d like a couple more just to be thorough. Think you could help me with that.” It was my turn to motion to the barn.

  Jake seemed happy to comply. I called out to him, “One more thing. You’ve done good work.” He had. All of his information had matched up with what I’d gathered. “But try to avoid hitting them in the head. I know it seems like a tempting target but they have more trouble answering if they’re woozy or busy swallowing teeth.”

  Then I went to the main house to check on Henry. He’d had a much easier time with Harris. When I called Henry out and compared notes I asked how he got the man to speak so freely.

  Henry said, “The man’s a coward. I told him that I had no intention of torturing him. The second he stopped answering I just leave him and wait for you. That did the trick. What now?”

  “Now, I beat a confession out of him, and then we’re off.”

  I went in the room and said, “Buford says you killed Josiah and Nolan. You want to tell me what really happened?”

  What followed was another bunch of defective excuses, all without me lifting a finger to him. Yes, they ambushed the men. Yes,
he was part of it. Yes, he ate some of them. But somehow it just wasn’t his fault. Or, if it was, it was still mostly someone else who was to blame.

  By then I was eager to get started, so we tied the prisoners up and got on the road (Jake had no trouble procuring a confession from Buford. He even thanked me for my advice). It was a short but twisty rout making our way around to the southern approach. By the time we arrived the sun was just past midday.

  We pulled right up to the roadblock and I led a small group of us around it. There were steep hills to the right and to the left and we had to do a little scrabbling to get around the obstruction. The three cannibals had the hardest time of it, without the use of their hands. I made sure to have two of my people guarding each of them. This close to town they were likely to get desperate.

  Once on the other side of the roadblock, we began a short walk along the highway into Flag Town. It was about a half mile with no one in sight. I’d left Jake, Henry, and Albert behind with their units and only taken six others with me. Almost immediately I noticed that much of our three prisoners’ evil stench had suddenly evaporated. It was still noticeable but not nearly as bad. As we continued, our prisoners’ aroma began to slowly reassert itself, to my senses at least.

  Sam, distracting me from my observation, said, “Where is everybody?”

  Gavin echoed the sentiment, “Shouldn’t somebody be on guard?”

  Tisha noticed Billy Ray sandbagging and brought her rifle up to her shoulder, “Get moving or this is as far as you go, you pathetic white trash.” Smart woman, she could tell he was up to something. He probably had a fantasy about suddenly making a break for the treeline. Billy Ray got moving.