The End Time Saga (Book 5): The Holding

by Greene, Daniel

  The trucks stopped roughly twenty yards from where they stood with their horses. Men stepped out, guns in hands. Ahmed’s heartbeat increased. Sly’s men would win a shootout for sure. Many had military M4s or AR-15s; it was difficult for him to tell at the distance. Ball caps and hunting vests, full-length deer hunting suits, along with jean jackets and warm farming coats.

  The man in front had wavy black hair and a light blue jean jacket on. He stood for a moment, staring at Jim and his men. He was counting the adversaries and deemed them not a threat.

  Holding his long gun in the air, Sly waited a moment before setting it on the hood of his pickup. Jim did the same, shoving it in his saddle. Each man made big overt gestures of putting their firearms away, but Jim tucked a handgun into the small of his back.

  The two groups marched forward toward one another like two rival street gangs preparing for a melee with knives and bats, a reality that could break bad at any moment. In that case, the Singleton gang would again surely be overcome by numbers.

  The leaders met in a stare down. Their gangs sized each other up. The man directly across from Ahmed sneered at him beneath a single eye then spit black juice into the blanket of ground snow.

  A mocking smile slid onto Sly’s lips. “Lee had good sense to call this meeting. Finally put that big brain of yours to use.” All of Sly’s words brimmed with venom.

  “He called it on my behalf,” Jim said.

  “Did he? Surprising considering your most recent actions.”

  Sticking his tongue into the side of his lip, Jim spoke. “We only made right what you done to Brad and Kyle.”

  Sly’s smile didn’t fade. “We were making good on what you did to my youngest brother.”

  “He’s my brother,” One Eye said across from Ahmed.

  “Our brother, yes.”

  “Enough slaying’s been done,” Lee said.

  “I would agree, but your leader seems to think killing women is an acceptable action in our feud.”

  Jim thrust a finger at Sly. “She was guilty just like the others.” He twisted his head to the side. “You would have burned my mother alive if we hadn’t escaped.”

  “I believe our local officer of the law checked the premises before we burnt down that treacherous nest a vipers.” Sly shrugged his shoulders. “It’s neither here nor there. I come for peace. No more hostilities. Keep the past where it belongs. In the past.”

  Jim’s jaw dropped. “You’re lyin’.”

  Wavering his head back and forth, Sly kept his face steady. “I’d love to end this here and now, stick a knife in your gut, but it ain’t my decision.”

  Jim furrowed his brow. “Try it.”

  “You’ve always been a hothead, Jimmy, but there’s somebody that wants to meet you.”

  Turning around, Sly waved an arm wide over his head. Lights flicked on and a rumble of motorcycle engines fired up. The sound made Ahmed’s heart jump.

  His eyes grew large as a cluster of motorcycles cruised down the road, taking the ditch in stride, shocks absorbing the rough patch. Ahmed’s stomach roiled as they got closer, making him want to puke with anger. They rolled straight to the gathering. They were covered in leather, heavy coats, and masks. He recognized their patches right away. Black wolves with gold eyes.

  The eight bikers dismounted. They passed through the mass of Baileys. The lead man swaggered his way to the front and took a place next to Sly. His black goatee was streaked with gray and ran down his chest like a snake, ribbed with rubber bands in intervals. His hair hung to his shoulders and his eyes were fierce with a wild glint. Macleod.

  Macleod slapped Sly on the back. “So these are the hooligans disrupting our operation?”

  “They are,” Sly said with downcast eyes.

  Macleod licked his lips, forming a dry smile. “Who’s the boss?” He ran his eyes over the Singleton men. “Which one of you fine men should I speak too.”

  “I am,” Jim said. He stood tall, not afraid of the bikers or too stupid to show it.

  Disbelief enveloped Macleod’s eyes. They stared at one another, unblinking, and Ahmed tried to fade into the background. Macleod surely had some unfinished business that he would love to take out on him. “Sly does some good work for me, and I don’t want that interrupted, so I can’t have you guys fighting.” He put a hand on his hip. Every man there tensed, thinking he was going to draw down on them. “How can we bring this to a close? How do we call a truce?” He opened his arms. “Ideas?” Fiery eyes scrutinized the Singleton party and he sighed. “I suppose I could kill you all right here. That would fix it.”

  “Try it,” Jim said. His confidence was not shared by his outnumbered party. A Foxworth took a step back.

  Sighing, cold smoke misted in front of Macleod. “You’re either brave or really stupid, but I don’t want myself or Sly all shot up. What do you want Jim?” His eyes narrowed, trying to figure Jim out.

  Blinking, Jim studied the ground for a few seconds. It had been the first time that someone had actually forced the man to think about why he was doing what he was doing. “What I want is Sly to admit he’s wrong, admit he’s guilty for what he done.”

  “Seems easy enough.” He turned to Sly. “Apologize to Jimmy for what you’ve done.”

  The Bailey patriarch’s mouth fell open before he forced it closed. Dipping his chin to the ground, Macleod waited for the apology like a drunken parent disciplining two fighting kids.

  “I ain’t admitting I was wrong. I was right for what I done. It was justice.”

  “No, no, Sly.” His chin rose and his dark eyes fell upon Ahmed. Macleod blinked, trying to place him.

  Ahmed didn’t turn away. He kept his face devoid of all emotion, facing the man who’d shot him, killed his friends, and betrayed him in a time of need.

  Gradually, Macleod released Sly’s shoulder. He took a few steps closer, chuckling to himself as he walked. “No, no, no. I killed you.” He paced a few more steps forward between the groups. “We killed you.” Squinting his eyes, he swept his jacket back revealing a handgun. “Can’t be.” He got within a few feet and sucked his own cheeks, weighing him the entire time. “AH-med?”

  Ahmed’s heart thumped inside his body wanting to escape. Macleod was the only armed man in the group aside from Jim. “It’s me.”

  Breathing a wicked laugh, Macleod looked at the clouds for an answer. “Not that it could have been anyone else. I mean, come on? How many Arabs do you think live in butt-fuck Missouri? One, two, not unless they got some ISIS training camp they’re all hiding in.” An evil smile spread on his lips. “How you been?” He took a step closer, pressing his face near Ahmed’s, his breath a rancid mix of whiskey and beef jerky. “Been hindered by the going-away present we left you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Macleod turned back toward his bikers, raising his hands in the air. “He’s fine.” His gang laughed cruel hard tones like they’d already put another bullet into his body. “I been jabbering for minutes on end and he says he’s fine. Ha. Now I know why Steele kept you around for so long. You’re quite the conversationalist. How is our noble agent and fearless leader by the way?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I can tell you this, he sure ain’t alive. Jackson’s men were coming in from the north, south, east and the river was west so you can imagine how that ended up. Better to jump ship early and often in this world.” Boldly he walked back to his men, leaving himself exposed without fear.

  He could feel Jim’s eyes upon him. “You know these guys?”

  “They’re the ones who killed my men.”

  Macleod strolled back to Sly’s group again without a care in the world. “All right, bumpkins. This is what we’ll do.” He wagged a finger at Sly. “My boy Sly here is going to apologize for all wrongdoings on his knees like a good little boy.”

  “By God I will not!”

  Twisting his neck to the side, Macleod’s tone hardened. “You will do as you’re told, or I’ll make yo
ur wife watch as I cut your balls off and feed them to you.” He raised an eyebrow at his insubordinate partner. “Fair trade?”

  The Bailey leader visibly paled, his face taking on the shade of the ashen ground he stood on. He shook his head. Kicking the back of his knees, Macleod forced him to the ground with a thwack! Not one of the Bailey men intervened.

  Running a hand through Sly’s wavy hair, he massaged his scalp with his fingertips as if he were comforting the man one moment then going to take his scalp the next. “How do you get your hair so luxurious?” Macleod stopped massaging Sly’s head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I like you, Sly. I really do, but let’s let bygones be bygones. Shall we?” His tone became annoyingly patronizing. “Say you’re sorry to Jim Bob over there.”

  Sly stared forward, fear clouding his eyes, but his hatred for Jim was so much greater. His mouth remained closed. Macleod laughed at him. “You’re stupid. Roody tell Pork to bring up his wife. Pride is a damnable offense.”

  “Wait.” Sly’s brown eyes peered at Jim. “I’ll say it.”

  Macleod bent down next to his ear. “You’re slightly smarter than you look. Slightly.” He turned his palm up like a circus ringmaster. “You may continue.”

  Collecting himself with a sigh, Sly stared at Jim. “I apologize for killing your father and brother.”

  “Not good enough,” Jim spat.

  Macleod cocked his head. “A better apology?” He kicked at Sly. “Make sure to add in it will never happen again. I suppose it couldn’t ’cause you only get one dad, but you could have more brothers. Do you have more brothers, Jimmy?” Macleod eyed the men around him. “That one there looks like you a bit.”

  “I don’t have no more brothers,” Jimmy growled.

  “Too bad. All right Sly, lay it on us. Make me feel it in my soul.” He bent down close to the man’s face. “We’re waiting.”

  “I’m sorry for the troubles my family has caused yours for generations. It’s our fault this happened.”

  Macleod nudged him with his knee, shielding his mouth from Jim’s group, he said harshly, “And brother and father.”

  Clenching his jaw, Sly gritted his teeth as if each word pained him. “I’m sorry for killing your father and brother.”

  Jim snarled. “You murdered them!”

  “And what about Grayson? You murdered him, his two sons, and his wife.”

  “Boys, boys. No need to shout. Remember what we’re doing? Sly, you were apologizing for the murders.” He locked eyes with Jimmy. “Some people.”

  The words came forced. “I’m sorry for murdering them.”

  Macleod raised a single eyebrow with his arms folded over his chest. “That seemed pretty sincere.”

  “It was okay.”

  Macleod nudged Sly again with his knee. “Stand up.” He searched the sky for divine inspiration. “I am healing this torn divided nation. I’m like Abraham fucking Lincoln.” He took a step toward Jim. “Now I’ve done you a great service and given you what you wanted. Let me tell you what you can do for me.” He raised his eyebrows to the top of his skull. “Seems fair, no?”

  “What do you want from us?”

  “I want you all to get along, and you to fall under my club’s protection. That’s all. Easy enough.”

  “We don’t need protection.”

  “Ah, but you do. But you do.” He paused and his tone hardened. “You do. There are so many bad people out there. Not to mention the infected. Tons of them across the river there. Ugly fucks each and every one. But they provide a bit of fun, don’t they, Ahmed?”

  Ahmed had no words for the man. This man, no bastard, killed Ollie and Weston and betrayed them. He had nothing to say to such a traitor.

  “Come on, buddy? We were friends once. No need for the silent treatment.”

  “Go to hell.”

  Macleod gave him a toothy grin. “That’s better. That’s why I’ve always liked you. Quiet and noble. You are a true hero.” He pointed over at Ahmed. “You got what I want, Jimmy. You give me Ahmed, Sly will keep the peace, you will keep the peace. You will be protected from all the boogeymen out there and everybody wins.”

  All eyes fell on Ahmed. Jim’s eyes read him, chewing on the corrupted words that Macleod spewed forth. Slowly shaking his head, Ahmed said. “No.”

  “Jimmy, I upheld my part. I got you what you wanted. Now give me what I want. You clearly have no love for the Arab.”

  Jim continued to weigh Ahmed. He had no delusion how this would go if Jim agreed to Macleod’s terms. Macleod would draw his handgun and put a bullet in his head like he did to Ollie and Weston, and that was if he was in a merciful mood. If he wasn’t feeling sympathetic at the present time, he would take him back to wherever he was holed up and torture him before sawing off his head or something diabolical that men could only fathom in nightmares.

  A fight would be over quick. Ahmed would try to knock his teeth in before being subdued by the bikers and Baileys. Maybe he could land a few hits on them, but nothing substantial, nothing that any of these men hadn’t experienced before. Bruises and broken noses that would disappear in a few days while Ahmed’s corpse rotted on top of the frozen earth, the coyotes tearing at his carcass followed by the mouths of the dead. He’d take the coyotes over the dead.

  Jim broke eye contact, his icy eyes flitting back to his rivals. “Mr. Macleod, you’ve done me great service today.”

  A proud smile spread on Macleod’s face.

  “You’ve gotten more out of this deceitful rat of a man than my family has in generations.”

  “I’ve always been a great mediator.” He mouthed Abraham Lincoln to Ahmed.

  Jim put a hand over his heart. “Thank you.”

  “So you accept?”

  Jim regarded the ground as if he were judging its worth for planting. “Well, you see. I have a problem with handing Ahmed over. He’s one of us now, and I don’t turn my people over to some jerk-off.” He paused as if he almost forgot. “And while I wasn’t surprised to see Sly on his knees, I didn’t buy a lick of his apologies.”

  Macleod’s lips tightened into a sneer. “You’re more stupid than Sly here.” His hand rested on his pistol.

  Jim’s hand latched on the handgun in the small of his back. “Yeah, I been called stupid but never disloyal. Ahmed’s one of us. Remember that.”

  A hearty laugh came from the back of Macleod’s throat. He slowly stopped, mirth lining his cruel eyes. “Jimmy, my boy. You and your whole family are going to pay for this.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I’ll be seeing you later.” Macleod aimed a finger at him like his hand was a gun. “Pew.”

  Jim stood there, his outward appearance giving an air of being generally unimpressed. Macleod walked back to his motorcycle, and Sly and his men to their trucks. The Wolf Riders fired up engines and rolled back over the bumpy field, the Bailey men behind them in pickup trucks.

  The Singleton group stood for a moment watching them go. Ahmed moved closer to Jim. “You should have given me over.”

  Jim turned toward him, face steely. “To the likes of that? Nah. Wouldn’t’ve been right.”

  Ahmed’s face broke into a grin followed by Jim. “You still thinking about leaving us?”

  His body responded before him. “No.”

  “Really?”

  Ahmed’s smile widened. “Wouldn’t be right.”

  GWEN

  Camp Forge, IA

  The walls around Camp Forge had grown since she’d been gone, reminding her of a toy log fort. The hooves of ten horses trampled the snowy earth. On the corners of the structure, sandbagged platforms sat elevated. Tiny little heads poked out from behind the protective barriers.

  They walked their mounts along the road, the hayrack’s wheels groaning as they churned. Men watched them from the timber, axes in hand. She knew they were hers. They’d seen tracks of other men on their return from Farmington. A few bodies of frozen dead soldiers stripped naked of all clothing. Prisoner
s that Steele had let go. Feral men that’d been released on the countryside.

  Facing west was a large metal gate that could be hoisted up with a chain. It bore resemblance to a volunteer firefighters’ warehouse garage door. Slender metal slats were layered and would bend under force but not break. It’d been welded and supported by the thick stripped tree trunks turned fortifications. A man on the wall peered down at her.

  “It’s Gwen!”

  The head disappeared and muffled yells echoed out of the camp. The gate cranked upward from the inside.

  Nathan walked through the entrance holding an AR-15. A big smile spread on his lips. “It’s damn sure good to see you, Gwen.”

  “Nathan,” she said, returning his friendliness.

  “Did you find the medicine?”

  Gwen exchanged a look with Tess. “Yes.”

  “I won’t hold you longer then.”

  Her group entered the fortifications. She scrambled down from the hayrack and hurried straight to her grandparents’ house. Steele stood on the porch. He embraced her tight.

  He whispered in her ear. “I was worried.”

  “Me too.”

  “Did you find the medicine?”

  “Yes.”

  He let her go. “Hurry, the infection’s moved to her lungs.”

  She didn’t say a word. She burst through the door and bounded up the steps. Not bothering to knock, she went into the bedroom.

  Becky glanced at the door, tears in her eyes that softened in relief. “Oh, Gwen.”

  Gwen raced to her side. Setting down her pack, she said hushed, “She’s not?”

  A shaky breath escaped from her sister’s lips. “Barely.”

  Ripping open her bag, she removed a package of antibiotics. She scooped the bottle out and twisted off the cap, shaking pills into her hand. Leaning close to Haley, she whispered, “Open up, sweetie.”

  Haley’s eyelids opened the tiniest crack, causing Gwen’s heart to break. She smiled at her, tears forming in her eyes. “Open up, sweetie.”

  They adjusted Haley so she was laying more upright. Placing the pills in her mouth, she followed it with the bottled water. “Down it goes.”