Eastwood: Book Two in The No Direction Home Series

by Mike Sheridan

  “Ralph, is this going to be a car chase like you see in the movies?” Laura asked excitedly.

  “That’s right, little doll. Now do as you’re told and get your head down. Things might get a tad frisky.”

  ***

  The Dodge Ram gained distance on them once more. Simone leaned over the back ledge and knocked out a large hole in the rear window with the butt of her gun. It was harder than she thought, the laminated glass was tough to break through.

  Marcie glanced at her in the mirror. “Simone, get down! They’ll start firing again any second!”

  Now that she’d made herself a better position to shoot from, Simone ducked down behind her seat again. Peeking over the ledge, she stared out the hole and saw that the blue pickup had turned around to join the chase and was gaining ground fast. “Their friends are following us now too!” she yelled.

  She flinched and ducked her head as another burst of gunfire opened up and several rounds pinged off the Volkswagen’s bodywork. Lifting her head, she aimed her Glock through the hole and released several single-spaced shots. Whether she hit the vehicle or not she had no idea, but unlike last time, her shooting made no difference and the Ram continued to speed toward them.

  Behind the Ram, the blue pickup opened fire. Idiots, Simone thought to herself. They’re going to hit their own men if they’re not careful.

  Sure enough, after another burst of gunfire, the Ram started to swerve from side to side. In the next moment, it lost control and careened off the road and into a patch of rough grass.

  Disbelieving, Simone watched as whoever was handling the rifle in the blue pickup continued to fire at it as they sped by.

  “Hey!” she shouted. “The new people are firing at the other guys, not us!”

  It only occurred to her then how unlikely it was that the men in the blue pickup had anything to do with those in the Ram. They couldn’t possibly have known that Marcie would take the shortcut Billy had led her down. In the heat of the moment, no one had had time to think properly.

  “You sure?” Marcie asked, staring anxiously in the rearview mirror. Concentrating on her driving, she obviously hadn’t seen the Ram being forced off the road.

  “Positive.” The blue pickup continued to bear down on them, then its headlights began flashing. “Marcie, stop! They want to talk to us.”

  Marcie glanced in her mirror again, her foot flat on the pedal as another straight stretch of road opened up in front of them.

  “Stop, dammit!” Fred yelled at her. “Whoever they are, they’re on our side.”

  Marcie took her foot off the pedal and applied it to the brakes. The Volkswagen slowed down and after another seventy yards, she pulled over to the side of the road. The blue pickup slowed too. Moments later, it glided to a stop beside them.

  A large man with jet black hair and a horribly disfigured face leaned his head out the front passenger window. Draped over the frame, on his right hand was a large skull ring with sinister ruby eyes. For one awful moment, Simone thought she’d made a terrible mistake. Perhaps these people weren’t friends after all.

  “What the hell do you mean by running us off the road like that?” the man growled fiercely at Marcie. Then he looked over at Fred and broke out into a big grin. “Mister, you always let your old lady drive like that? She’s going to get you killed one of these days.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Fifteen minutes later, ten people sat or stood around the kitchen table at Willow Spring Farm, acquainting each other with their tales of survival. Back on the road earlier, after a brief discussion, Pete had followed the battered station wagon back to the farm where, on arrival, a young boy had brought everyone into the kitchen.

  “So all five of you intend on living here, is that the plan?” Maya asked Fred, who sat in his wheelchair at the top of the table. He and Marcie had done most of the talking for their group.

  “That’s right. It’s got everything we need. Seeing as Billy was born and raised here, he knows everything there is to know about running the place, right, Billy?”

  “Most things,” the young boy replied solemnly. “Not everything.”

  “Well, what you don’t know, Marcie can teach you. She’s a farmer too.”

  “Really?” Maya said, staring at Marcie curiously. “That’s a useful profession these days.”

  “Before I got married, I was a nurse. That’s a useful profession too,” Marcie told her. “As for the farm, we grew mainly cereals. Still, between the five of us, we’ll figure it out.” She looked over at Ralph and Pete, who stood leaning against the back wall. “You say your camp is in the Cohutta. That’s a good four hour drive away. What exactly brings you here?”

  “We’re on a recruitment hunt,” Pete explained. “We’ve established a camp with plenty of good land. We’re just short people to help run it.”

  “Why, how many of you are there?”

  Pete gestured over at Laura and Jenny who sat at one corner of the table. “Including our first two recruits, we number ten in total.”

  Marcie smiled at the girls. “Looks like you got off to a good start.”

  Laura stared back at her. “Marcie, do you read the Bible?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Uh…it’s been a while,” Marcie replied, looking a little confused.

  “How about you, Fred?”

  “Not since I was about your age. Why?”

  Laughing, Maya explained. “This morning, Ralph suggested we should find some God-fearing Christians to join us. I think Laura was hoping that might be you guys.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” Marcie said, chuckling. “Though perhaps it’s just as well, seeing as we don’t have any intention of leaving here. All of us are excited to help Billy run this place.”

  “Aren’t you worried about defending it by yourselves?” Pete asked. “No offense, but you guys are kind of vulnerable. What if the gang that just attacked you finds this place? You say you think they’re from around here somewhere.”

  “Don’t worry. Once we get settled in, we’ll keep those ruffians at bay,” Fred said confidently. “Appreciate your concern, but we’ll do just fine.”

  Ralph was doubtful. “Then you’ll need to get yourself better weapons. It’s hard to defend against semi-automatic rifles with shotguns and pistols.”

  “You’re right,” Simone said. She looked at him. “What do you suggest we get?”

  “Any type of AR-15 is best. Make sure they’re chambered in 5.56mm. There’s more availability—”

  He flinched as a volley of gunfire erupted outside. At the front of the house, there was the sound of glass breaking.

  “What the hell!” Fred exclaimed.

  Ralph snatched his Bushmaster leaning against the kitchen cabinets. “Come on, Pete!” he yelled, running over to the hall door. “Everyone else, stay here.”

  “We’ll watch the garden!” Fred shouted after him, wheeling himself over to where he’d left his shotgun. “Make sure no one come around the back and surprises us.”

  Ralph raced down the hall with Pete following right behind him. He ducked into the living room and over to the window. Both panes were broken, and a pile of glass lay on the floor.

  He poked his head cautiously around the curtains and stared up the driveway. At the gates, two men stood to one side of the pillars. Parked next to them, the rear bumper of a brown pickup truck could be seen. “Damn, they followed us here,” he cursed under his breath.

  Pete stepped out and darted across the window to the far side, his AR-15 clutched in his hands. Immediately, a fusillade of gunfire opened up, bullets thudding into the back wall behind him.

  “That was close!” Pete gasped.

  “Pete, watch how I do this,” Ralph said. “Less chance of getting hit.”

  He poked the muzzle of the Bushmaster out the window. Peeking just one eye around the window frame, he aimed the rifle at the top of the driveway and opened fire. Pete followed suit, and soon the harsh sound of gunfire echoed around the room.r />
  The two attackers ducked behind the pillar. There was the sound of doors slamming, and then an engine starting. Next moment, the pickup jerked forward and disappeared from view.

  Pete lowered his rifle with a relieved grin. “Didn’t seem like they wanted to put up much of a fight, did they?”

  “For now. They’ll be back, though,” Ralph replied. “Pete, you need to persuade these folk to come back to Eastwood with us. No way in hell can we let them stay here. They won’t last a week.”

  Pete frowned. “You heard them. They’re determined to live here. How can I get them to change their minds?”

  “I don’t know. Sell them on how great our camp is. How for a limited time only, all blind people, invalids, and grannies are welcome. But they got to hurry, the offer ends tonight.” Ralph headed for the door. “Come on, stop looking like a gormless douche and get ready to hustle!"

  CHAPTER 35

  The following day, Walter set out from Camp Eastwood in his Tundra. Cody rode shotgun, the stock of his Ruger SR-556 carbine jammed between his knees, barrel pointing out the window.

  It had been almost a week since the group left Wasson Lodge. Walter wanted to meet with Sheriff Rollins and let him know that he hadn’t reneged on his promise to build him his micro hydro. It was something he had intended to do, sooner but had delayed until Pete, Ralph, and Maya returned from their recruitment mission. He’d had no intention of leaving their new camp while they were gone, undermining its defenses even further.

  “How are you and Emma getting on?” he asked, steering the pickup down the dirt and gravel road. “Still at that lovey dovey, touchy feely stage?”

  Cody felt his cheeks reddening. Over the course of the past few days, he and Emma had spent every moment of their free time together, either in Cody’s trailer making love, or out exploring the Cohutta wilderness where there was a certain rock pool they liked to frequent. “I guess,” he replied embarrassedly. “Sometimes, I think maybe it’s a little weird given the times we’re in. All this death and destruction around us.”

  Walter shook his head. “Not at all. Make the most of it. Particularly because of the times we’re in.”

  Cody laughed. “All right. Will do.” He changed the topic. “I took Simone and Marcie out for target practice this morning. They’re both pretty good shots. And Fred’s not bad either. With Eric pushing him around the place, the two make one heck of a good defender.”

  Walter chuckled. “Pete will be relieved to hear that. The expression on his face when he got back yesterday was priceless. Haven’t seen him look that mortified since the time he showed up with Mason at the Chevron station.”

  On their return to camp the previous evening, an uncomfortable-looking Pete had introduced the seven new recruits. Everyone had struggled to keep the astonishment off their faces: two seventy-year-olds, one of them wheelchair bound, a blind man, and a gaggle of children hadn’t quite been what anyone had been expecting him to return with. Pete insisted it had taken some persuasion on his part to get them to come, too.

  “Billy brought plenty to get the farm going,” Cody said. “That’s going to help.”

  As well as the human additions, the group had towed back two twelve-foot trailers containing a variety of farm animals, plants, seeds, and farming equipment, including two hoop tunnels, rabbit hutches, and a chicken tractor. It boded well for their move down to the valley.

  He glanced at Walter. “Billy says he’s good with a gun as well. Told me his father taught him how to use one when he was ten years old. I’m not sure whether to believe him or not.”

  Walter remained silent a while before speaking. “Normally I wouldn’t weapons train a twelve-year-old boy for defense purposes. It’s not right. But times have changed. If need be, it’s better Billy defends the camp than let it fall victim to bandits. Especially seeing as we’ve got several young girls to take care of now.”

  “All right. Tomorrow, I’ll take him up to the range. My father taught me to shoot at his age, too. ’Course, that was a little different. He trained me to shoot deer, not people.”

  They crossed Jacks River over the concrete bridge dividing Georgia from Tennessee, and headed up Peavine Road. It took almost a straight line due north, connecting with Baker Creek Road, and took them past the Harris Branch where Cody had gone hunting with Eddy a week ago. With all that had occurred since, it felt far longer than that.

  Thirty minutes later, they swung around a long bend and Lake Ocoee’s clear blue waters came into view. Soon they turned onto Cookson Creek Road and passed Devil’s Point. Minutes later, the turn for Wasson Lodge came up on their right.

  Walter peered through the windscreen and frowned. “Looks like the sheriff took down the checkpoint. That’s not good.”

  “You don’t think Chris has fallen out with him, do you?” Cody asked, staring out the window. With a depleted group at the lodge, it made even more sense for the checkpoint to remain in operation.

  Walter shrugged. “It’s possible. Chris is the sort who’d start a fight in an empty bar.”

  Passing the turn, Cody stared out his side window. He spotted an unfamiliar pickup truck parked across the driveway, blocking the entrance. Two strangers sat in the bed, the barrels of their rifles sticking out over the panel. Both men stared at the passing Tundra with hostile expressions.

  “Looks like Chris has found some new recruits as well. Can’t say they look too friendly,” Walter remarked.

  They arrived at the turn for Camp Benton, where both men noted that the South Cookson checkpoint had also been removed. Walter tugged at the wheel and turned into the entranceway.

  Two hundred yards ahead, an eight-wheeler flatbed truck sat parked across the road. To either side, trees had been felled, preventing any vehicle from driving around it.

  “Looks like they moved the checkpoint here,” Cody said, staring up the forested drive.

  As they got closer, they saw that sandbags had been stacked two-high along the truck bed. Three men stood behind them, their rifles pointing outward. One raised his in the air and two shots rang out in quick succession. Immediately, he lowered his rifle again and trained it on the oncoming Tundra.

  “What the hell!” Walter exclaimed, jamming his foot on the brakes.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Cody saw movement in the woods to his left. A figure stood behind a tree, aiming his rifle at the driver-side window.

  Walter spotted him too. “Don’t move a muscle,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, his head motionless. “Not even a twitch.”

  Cody had absolutely no intention of doing so. He sat ramrod straight, staring ahead. Slowly, Walter reached his hand over to the driver door and buzzed down his window. “Don’t shoot!” he yelled. “We’re here to see Sheriff Rollins.”

  The figure stepped out from behind the tree and walked over to them, his AR-15 held level in his grip. When he got closer, Walter breathed a sigh of relief. “Sam, that you? It’s me…Walter!” He turned to Cody. “It’s all right, I know Sam.”

  The man was unfamiliar to Cody who, unlike Walter, hadn’t spent much time at Camp Benton. “Just hope he hasn’t forgotten you,” he replied, feeling some of the tension leaving his body.

  As the guard reached the pickup, he waved over to his companions, gesturing for them to lower their weapons.

  “Dammit, Sam,” Walter said, shaking his head. “You guys are kind of jumpy, ain’t you? Looked like you were about to open up on us.”

  “If you’d gotten any closer, we would have. Everyone is a little skittish right now.” Though friendly, there was a tense look on Sam’s face as he spoke.

  “So I see. What the hell is going on?”

  Sam scratched the side of his head. “We’ve had trouble lately. Plenty of it. Three of our men got murdered the other day. They took Ned Granger hostage. We only managed to free him yesterday.”

  “Oh man. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Sam stared at Walter. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard the
news about the lodge either, have you?”

  “No. What news?”

  “Same bandits that killed our men stormed it a couple of nights ago. They killed Chris and the rest of the men.” Sam pointed a finger back toward the junction. “Following morning, bastards dumped their bodies at the top of our driveway. We had to bury them ourselves.”

  Walter turned to face Cody, aghast. Cody stared back. The dismantling of the Cookson Road checkpoints and the strangers in the lodge’s driveway all made sense now.

  “Liz got away,” Sam continued. “She ran straight here that night. That’s how we know all the details.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Walter barely managed to stutter out. “Are you telling me that Liz is the only Camp Knox member to survive?”

  Sam nodded grimly. “Now you know what has us so edgy. We’ve got an enemy living a mile from our camp who’s murdered seven people.”

  He twirled a finger at the guards behind the eight-wheeler, indicating that they start the engine. “Go on up to the camp. The sheriff will fill you in on the details. It’s pretty simple, really. Basically, we’re at war.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Walter and Cody sat at the table opposite Sheriff Rollins. The sheriff had waited at the graveled lot at the top of the driveway to greet the two men when they stepped out of their vehicle, then escorted them down to the main square. Sam had obviously radioed ahead from the checkpoint to inform him of their arrival.

  Though his manner was cordial, it was plain to see the increased tension in his demeanor since they last met. Taking the two into the cabin that served as the Benton’s council room, Rollins recounted everything that had occurred since Walter and his group left Wasson Lodge: the murder of three of his men on a scavenging run to Cleveland where Ned Granger had been taken hostage, how the lodge had been overrun and Chris and three of his men killed, and finally, how Rollins had found out where Granger had been taken prisoner and rescued him.