by N. C. Reed
“Take about three weeks, or so, for that alfalfa to start risin’,” Jerry remarked. “After that, I reckon no one that don’t know that road’s there will be able to find it.”
The next day, they started the process over in Cedar Bend. The job there was both easier, and more difficult. Easier because of the small rise that would hide the rest of the road, once they had covered what was visible, and harder because more work was required to camouflage the street. The road sign was pulled from the ground, as was the highway sign that indicated an intersection ahead.
In the end, a small shed was moved from elsewhere in town, and filled with and odds and ends assortment of hand tools and wire. The things that a small shack like that would have on a farm or ranch. It took two days to complete on this end, and the result was just as good.
This time bluegrass was used, instead of hay. It would look good, and grow fairly quickly. Once it was growing, nothing would remain to suggest that a road had ever been there. The last touch was a cattle gate, secured with a rusty looking lock. It wasn’t actually rusty, but only a close inspection would reveal that.
“I think this is actually better than the other side,” Jerry approved. “Heck, I been livin’ here all my life, and if I didn’t know there was a road there, I’d never suspect.”
“Good,” George nodded, wiping his brow with a gloved hand. “That’s the point, right? So what’s next?” he asked Terry Blaine.
“Tomorrow we start working of defensive structures.”
*****
Terry had found a geographical map of the small valley, and used a copy machine to enlarge it and make extra copies. They used the machine sparingly, since they didn’t have much of the toner the machine needed, but this was something they needed.
“We’re going to build some defenses along a rough ring around the houses,” he told the assembled valley folk. “We have a few heavy weapons, and we’ll sight places for them where they’ll do the most good. In addition, we’ll construct some dead-fall roadblocks that we can move into place given a few minutes warning. We’ll also look at booby trapping certain areas where we don’t go, and others might use to sneak up on us. It’s important to keep the children away from these areas,” he reminded everyone. “Right now, we’ll concentrate on fighting positions. They need to be strong, well concealed, and offer good fields of fire.” He paused, looking them over.
“The only way we’ll beat off a determined attack is fighting from cover, and inflicting as many casualties on our attackers as possible. We don’t have the manpower, or the equipment, to face a large group in the open. So, we learn the terrain, we stash weapons and ammunition in places around the valley that can be accessed in an emergency, and we train to use them.”
“Once our defenses are in place, we’ll run some drills. See how fast we can respond, and what works and doesn’t. We’ll likely have to make adjustments after the drills, but that’s what they’re for, so don’t worry about that.”
“We’ll start here, here, and here,” he told them, pointing to where he’d made red dots on the map. “We should be able to get those done tomorrow. These will be the places we’ll set up our heavier weapons. Once that’s finished, we’ll start creating supporting positions.”
“So everyone get a good night’s sleep. We’ll start bright and early in the morning.” He ignored the groans of protest. He agreed with them.
But it had to be done.
*****
John Easel, known as ‘Big John’ to everyone in what was left of Franklin, was a thinking man. Not many would have guessed that, since he was a huge, hulking brute, and cultivated the reputation of an ignorant bully. No one challenged his leadership of the group because of that, and the three men who made sure he stayed in charge.
But he wasn’t dumb. Not by a long shot.
He’d lost seven people so far to the Shooter. That’s what his people had taken to calling the sniper that had plagued them for the last week. Seven killed, and three that were left useless, arms or legs lost to the heavy rounds. Those three wouldn’t make it much longer. There was no place here for people who couldn’t do their share. They’d be dealt with, and soon.
Meanwhile, he was experiencing a reluctance among his followers to get out and work. The Shooter hadn’t struck in three days, though, and Big John’s patience was wearing thin. So he’d ordered everyone back to work. He had to replace the ruined vehicles, for one thing. There were plenty around, but getting them running wasn’t always easy. None of his men were real mechanics, and John wasn’t either.
Times had been hard over the winter. So hard that he and his followers had crossed a line that few men crossed. There had been revulsion at first, not merely reluctance but outright refusal. He hadn’t worried about that. Sooner or later, everyone gave in to a hungry belly.
In hindsight, once they had crossed that line, no one seemed to care anymore. It was as if their last vestige of humanity had left them. No longer concerned with civilized behavior, the people he led had given themselves over to the depravity that often accompanied such acts.
By spring, they had lost any sense of humanity. No regret, no morals, no restraints left. It as almost as if they suddenly realized there was no more real authority left, and they could do all those nasty things that they’d always wanted to, but were afraid of the consequences. And there were no more consequences.
Well, other than Big John. He had to put his foot down once in a while. Had to be some discipline, after all. Couldn’t just have people running around willy-nilly doing as they pleased.
No, someone had to be in charge, and Big John had decided that was him. Things had been fine until a few weeks ago, when the slaughterhouse had been burned. That had left them short on food, and he’d reluctantly taken from the ‘stores’ he had meant to sell or trade to the train people. He hated to lose out, but people had to eat.
If only the train got here soon enough, they could trade the rest of their prisoners, minus a few of the prettier women and a handful of promising kids, for supplies they needed. He didn’t know what that bunch wanted all these people for, and didn’t really care, so long as they payed him.
Now that the Shooter seemed to have been scared off by the search parties, it was time to. . . .
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud boom echoing across town, and a gurgled scream just outside his building.
*****
“He was guarding something,” Pete whispered. “Wonder what?”
“Guess we’ll see,” Billy shrugged. “Want to move?” Pete considered that, and shook his head.
“Not yet. This is a good spot, and you’re well back into the room. Let’s stay here, and see who comes to have a look see.”
“Okay.”
They waited for almost ten minutes. Finally a crowd started to gather, looking at the latest mischief of The Shooter.
“Take that big one,” Pete suggested. “The one that looks like he’s giving orders. Or arguing. I can’t tell. He’s wearing overalls, and a web belt.”
“I got’im,” Billy replied. Slowly he squeezed the slack from the trigger, let his breath out about half way, and finished his squeeze.
*****
“Big John, somethin’ got to be done!” the man across from him complained. “We can’t keep goin’ like this!”
“I know that, Abel,” John replied calmly. “I’m workin’ on it, but these things take time. I got two men out there right now, tryin’ to track him down.”
“Two! That ain’t nowhere’s near enough, John! Oughta be at least ten. Or twenty even!”
Big John never got the chance to answer as Able’s large body was suddenly de-constructed right in front of him. Parts of Able went everywhere, including on to Big John. The big man stood stock still for a full five seconds, blood and gore drenching him. Finally, he took a breath.
“I want him FOUND!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. Underlings spread out like ducklings, racing to find somewhere else to be.<
br />
“Find’im! And kill’im!” he ordered his lieutenants. They nodded and hurried to organize search parties from among the extremely reluctant participants.
“DAMN YOU!” John roared, still rooted to his spot on the sidewalk. Abruptly he turned and stomped back into his building to wash Abel off of him.
*****
“Reckon we know who’s in charge now,” Pete observed.
“Yep,” Billy nodded. “Reckon I’ll take him, he comes out again.”
“We got to move, for now,” Pete shook his head. “Don’t worry, you’ll have your chance. But for now let’s make tracks.”
*****
The two men Big John had dedicated to finding the Shooter had heard the first shot, and gone still. They were near the Shooter, it sounded like, so they held up.
The second shot confirmed their belief, and the two men started to move in what they believed was the right direction. Neither man was military trained, but both were hunters. They had hunted all their lives and were good at it.
Unlike the others in town, they hadn’t crossed the line into cannibalism. They had managed to live off the scarce game left around the edges of town, a few cans of vegetables still hiding in houses outside of town, and their knowledge of edible roots and plants. They needed things from town, sometimes, though, and had let themselves be employed by John in exchange for things like ammo, and the occasional access to the town’s ‘entertainment’.
The two men were cousin’s, Rob and Kent McMahan. Raised miles from town, the two had always been a rough pair. In trouble with the law from their early teen years, the two had never had much respect for others, and the fall had simply completed their descent into lawless depravity.
They were perfect for this kind of job. And the promised payment was enticing. Their pick of the women awaiting sale to the Train. Neither was intending to miss out on that.
With that in mind, the two cousins began their tracking.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Pete took a careful look at their surroundings before heading out of the building. They hadn’t encountered any trouble up until now, but neither had allowed their caution to wane. This was a deadly dangerous place for them to be, and they never forgot it for even a second.
Pete motioned to Billy, and the two of them moved across the alleyway behind the building they had just vacated. Heading down the small alleyway, they entered another building, going straight through, and up to the second floor, where they set up to watch.
“We’ll watch our back trail a bit, and see what happens,” Pete whispered. Billy nodded, and set to cleaning his rifle. He was still working when he saw Pete stiffen slightly.
“What is it?” Billy asked. He silently closed the action on the rifle, and set it aside.
“I think there’s a couple guys following us,” Pete told him, amusement in his voice. “They’re either bait, or stupid.”
“Could be both,” Billy suggested with a shrug.
“Suppose so. They’re working through the building we were using. Probably looking for sign.”
“We didn’t leave anything,” Billy shrugged.
“No, but a good tracker will be able to tell we’ve been there,” Pete pointed out. “I’m tempted to move while they’re in there. On the other hand, I want to wait and see what they do. Where they go.”
“We could always follow them,” Billy suggested. Pete considered that for a moment.
“We’ll see. Depends on what they do.”
*****
“Look here, Rob,” Kent whispered harshly. He pointed out the window, and Rob realized is lined up with where others were still cleaning up pieces of Abel.
“See here, too,” Kent added, pointing to the dust. “I think. . .I think they’s two of’em,” he decided. “They’s two outlines in the dust, here. One a layin’, one a sittin’, best I can tell. They’re pretty good, too. Wasn’t for this dust, we’d likely not seen no sign of’em a’tall.”
“Reckon you can suss out whichaway’s they went?” Rob asked. Kent studied the scuffs in the dust for a moment.
“I kin try. Them’s army boots, right there,” he pointed. “Pretty sure both of’em are. We kin try tailin’em from here. Long as the dust lasts, or if’n they make a mistake, we’ll find’em.”
“I’d sooner find’em now, and be done, as have to go back and tell Big John we ain’t yet got’em.”
“Well, alrighty then. Looks like we go huntin’.” The two men left the room, Kent trying to maintain a trail of some kind in the thin dust along the building’s floors.
“Reckon they went out the back,” Kent announced, after a few minutes of studying. “Right in’ta the alley, there.”
“Can ya get a track on’em out there?” Rob asked.
“No idee,” Kent shrugged. “Hafta go and have a look-see.” The two made their way outside, cautiously. They weren’t taking any chances with someone like the Shooter.
*****
Little did the cousins know that the ‘Shooter’ and his assistant were watching their every move.
“You know, I take back what I said,” Pete mused. “They found enough sign in there to follow us out that particular door. That means they know a little bit, anyway.”
“Look like hunters,” Billy observed. Pete considered that, and nodded.
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
The two fell silent, watching to see what the two men tracking them did. Pete’s worst fear was that the two would call for more help, and search all the buildings. If that happened, he and Billy would have to get out of the area fast and unseen, or they’d be in a fight. One they would probably lose at this juncture.
*****
“Reckon we oughta call for help?” Kent asked.
“Help? For what?” Rob demanded. “We call for help, you can forget about that little redhead gal. Somebody else’ll be taking care o’ her come winter.”
“Was thinkin’ that we could get some help to search out these here buildings,” Kent explained. “Reckon if we find’em, John ain’t got no call not to give us our due hire.”
“You really think he’ll go for that?” Rob demanded.
“I bl’eve he’ll be so happy to have that Shooter, he’ll give us pretty much whatever we ask for,” Kent said simply. Rob considered that.
“Might be you got a point, cousin,” he said at last. “But let’s see if we can’t narrow it down a bit more, ‘fore we go callin’ the calvary.”
*****
“. . .fore we go callin’ the calvary.”
Pete sighed in relief, and lowered his rifle. The two would likely never know how close they had been to dying right then. The noise suppressor on Pete’s M-4 wouldn’t make the rifle completely quiet, but among these buildings, it would prevent the noise from traveling very far.
“I think we need to take them two out,” Billy whispered. “They liable to be a problem ‘fore this is over.”
“I agree, but I’m not sure we should do it here,” Pete replied. “We’re still way too close to where we were. There’s almost bound to be people just on the other side of that building,” he nodded to where they had been earlier. “No way they don’t hear.”
Billy considered that, grudgingly agreeing. Letting these two go was unsafe. They were clearly hunting for Pete and Billy. Might show up anywhere, at anytime. Eliminating them was the better option. He sat back.
“So, what’da we do?”
“We wait. They just might come to us.”
*****
The cousins looked the alley over carefully, Rob depending on Kent more than himself. Kent was by far the better tracker of the two, and Rob let him take the lead. Kent, for his part, examined everything carefully, but came up short.
“There ain’t a lick o’ nothin’ here I kin foller,” he told Rob. “Don’t mean they’s all that careful, but this pavement ain’t much for leavin’ no traces. And I ain’t seen nothin’ outta place, neither.”
“Reckon they ducked int
a one o’ these here buildin’s?” Rob asked, nodding to the building they were in rear of.
“Could be,” Kent mused. “Don’t rightly know. Ain’t no sign of it, but then, they wouldn’t be, less they dropped sump’n.”
“Let’s check it out, then,” Rob ordered. “Real quiet like.” Kent nodded, and led the way into the building.
*****
“Well, here they come,” Pete sighed.
“Should be more careful what ya wish for,” Billy grinned. Pete just shook his head. He nodded to Billy’s M-4.
“Got a can for that?” he asked.
“Can?” Billy frowned, then brightened. “Silencer, ya mean?” Pete nodded.
“Yeah, I got one,” Billy surprised him. He quickly detached the flash suppressor, and removed a gray piece of tubing from his pack.
“Where’d you get that?” Pete asked.
“Made it,” Billy replied, carefully screwing the silencer onto the rifle.
“You made it?” Pete goggled.
“Yeah,” Billy looked up. “What?”
“Billy, that thing’s got to be right on, or it could blow up in your face!” Pete hissed. “And it’s got to be quiet.”
“It works,” Billy assured him. “And it’s quiet enough.”
“I hope so, because they’re coming.” Pete moved to the hallway. The stairs were centrally located in the building, opening up into a main hallway that led to now long empty offices.
“I’m going to cross over, and set up in one of those doorways. You set up here. Let them both get on the landing, then we take them together. I’ll take the first one up, you take the second.” Billy nodded, and settled in as Pete hot-footed across the landing as quickly and quietly as he could.
*****
Kent eased up the stairway, carefully testing each step. Rob was close behind, covering his cousin, depending on him to make sure they didn’t make noise.
