Roads Less Traveled | Book 5 | End of the Road

by Dulaney, C.

  A large mass of people stood huddled together nearby. The older women and children were in the center, and the archers surrounded them.

  “You folks,” Michael called out. “Head inside. We’ll make sure you’re fed and get you settled.”

  Bill separated himself from the archers, walked over to Caleb, and shook his hand. “I dunno who patched her up before,” he said, “but they did a piss-poor job of it.” He touched his chest, indicating the scratch wounds Kasey had gotten in the fight at Bentree. “I did what I could to clean up the mess, but I think infection might be settin’ in.”

  “I appreciate it,” Caleb said.

  “As far as the other goes?” Bill shrugged. “Missed all the important bits, near as I can tell.” He gave Caleb a solid pat on the upper arm and motioned to his people. They followed the old man inside the courthouse.

  “Hey,” Jake said to Michael. He hefted his end of the stretcher. “Where do you want her?”

  “Take her inside,” Michael said. “Upstairs, one of the judge’s chambers.”

  Michael stepped aside and let Caleb, Jake, and Pete carry Kasey up the stone steps and into the courthouse, then he went to where Jonah rummaged around in the backend of the Suburban.

  Jonah held out the satellite phone and Michael’s logbook. “Some supplies from home. Food, ammo.”

  “Good,” Michael said. “We need it.” He glanced over Jonah’s shoulder and saw Rabbit and another soldier headed their way. To Jonah, he continued, “I’ll get someone to pass all this stuff around. But first things first.”

  “Yeah.” Jonah slammed the door shut and rolled his eyes up to the second floor of the courthouse. “It’s a good thing she’s unconscious.”

  Michael snorted. “Come on.”

  Once Rabbit and the medic joined them, the four jogged up the steps and heard the shouting before they even made it inside the foyer.

  “Why’s it so hot!”

  “Shit,” Jonah said. “She’s awake.”

  They took the stairs two at a time and cut the corner. There were a few doors on either side of the hallway; judges’ offices and the like. Midways down, Jake and Pete struggled with the stretcher, while Caleb tried to keep Kasey still.

  “Hold still, asshole, or we’ll drop you on purpose this time,” Jake said.

  Kasey rolled around, looking for something. “Where’s my dog?”

  Gus barked.

  “There he is!”

  Jake caught Michael’s eye and said, “Bill juiced her with some kind of pain med. Knocked her out fast, but…” Kasey kicked at Jake, who happened to be carrying the foot-end of the stretcher. “Fu—stop kickin’ me! That’s twice!”

  Jonah came up next to Caleb and jerked his chin, motioning for the man to get out of the way. Caleb stepped back, snapped his fingers, and Gus ran to him. He scooped him up and held him so he wouldn’t be underfoot. Jonah slid into place where Caleb had been next to the stretcher. He took hold of Kasey and held her still as best as he could.

  “Yeah,” he said. “She was always a mean drunk.”

  “And that’s the damn truth,” Jake agreed.

  Michael opened the door to the nearest office. “C’mon, get her in here. Everyone in the building can hear her hollering.”

  Rabbit and the medic stood back, trying very hard not to laugh.

  The others fought and struggled with Kasey and the stretcher, and finally got her through the doorway. Michael turned back to Rabbit.

  “Wipe that damn grin off your face and get in there.” He held the door open and motioned furiously with his other hand.

  Inside, Kasey yelled, “Lemme up, chicken’s in the mailbox!”

  They finally maneuvered her over to a large desk close to the wall. Caleb hurried over and set Gus in the leather chair in the corner. “Stay put,” he said, then he stepped in to help Jonah.

  “Hold her still,” Jonah said. He and Caleb wrestled with Kasey, one at her arms and the other at her legs. “Set her down.”

  “What the hell ya think we’re tryin’ to do?” Jake said.

  “Language!” Kasey hollered.

  Jake and Pete lowered her to the desk.

  Kasey yelled again. “Careful! Don’t you know I was stabbed?” She kicked at Jake again, but only managed in catching her dad under the chin. He fell backwards, tripped over Jake, and they both went to the floor.

  “Kasey, stop,” Jonah said loudly into her ear.

  Michael and Rabbit jumped in to grab Kasey’s flailing legs, and the medic came forward smooth as water and jabbed Kasey in the upper arm with a needle. Her next outburst was cut off after the first syllable. The medic held the syringe up in front of his mouth, blew across it, and tossed it back into his bag.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, half of you, get out of my way. The other half, roll her over.”

  ✽✽✽

  An hour later, the medic, Rabbit, and Michael stepped out into the hall. Jonah, Caleb, and Jake jumped up from where they sat on the floor and dusted themselves off.

  “That oughta do it,” Rabbit said. “You boys look like you could use a drink.” He held up a bottle of something he’d grabbed from the drawer of the judge’s desk.

  “Technically, sir,” the medic said, “we’re on duty.”

  Rabbit eyeballed him and took a long drink. The medic said no more.

  Caleb waved it off and said, “Will she be alright? How bad is it?”

  “She’s fine,” Michael said. He leaned against the wall and wiped his forehead. “There’ll be pain, of course. But looks like it was just a flesh wound.”

  The medic nodded his agreement. “I’ll look after her. Change dressings, make sure nothing gets infected.” He paused a beat, then added, “I don’t recommend any more pain meds, though.”

  Jake laughed. “Yeah, no shit.”

  “Can she fight?” Jonah asked.

  Rabbit and the medic exchanged a glance. “I wouldn’t recommend it,” the latter said. “Though I doubt she’ll follow doctor’s orders.”

  Jake mumbled, “No shit,” again.

  The hallway fell quiet. Rabbit took another pull from the bottle and finally said, “So we’re just gonna ignore the fact that a fucking terminator shanked Kasey?” He used the bottle to point at Jonah. “They can open doors now. Weapons. And apparently they’re learning tactics.” He looked at the others and raised his eyebrows. “What the hell else don’t we know?”

  Jake bit at his nails, his eyes darting back and forth between Jonah and Rabbit. Jonah shook his head, once and just barely. Michael caught the exchange.

  “I think we’re done here,” he said. “Let’s go make sure everyone’s settled in and ready.” He waved everyone toward the stairs. Rabbit opened his mouth to argue, but Michael interrupted. “Come on, we’ll talk it over downstairs.” Jonah shot him a worried look, but Michael held up a hand and shook his head. Jonah breathed a sigh of relief and nodded.

  Caleb hung back as the rest filed out, but Jonah stopped him before he went inside the office.

  “I’ll stay with her,” he said. He jerked his chin down the hall. “Go on. See to Bill’s people.”

  Caleb hesitated, then finally sighed and followed the others downstairs.

  Jonah eased the office door open. Gus, still stationed in the big leather chair, raised his head and perked his ears. Jonah patted the air with his hand and Gus settled down. Covered up on the stretcher, now lowered to the floor, was Kasey. She was on her side and lying very still, with one hand covering her face. He sat down on the floor beside her, tugged the blanket up a little bit over her shoulders, and waited. He knew she wasn’t asleep; he always knew. Even drugged, or drunk, she’d fight her way to consciousness. At most, she rested her eyes for extended periods of time.

  Toe to heel, he kicked off one boot, then the other. He leaned back, stretched out on the floor with his hands behind his head, and listened. After some time, her breathing changed and she went to sleep.

  ✽✽✽
<
br />   It was the middle of the afternoon the next day by the time they left. Torrez tried to talk them into staying, but Mort made the man understand that they had friends they needed to find, and that if they did find them, they’d bring them back to the prison where it was safe. Torrez agreed, and after he learned their destination, made sure their saddle bags were filled with dried fish, deer jerky, and water purification tablets. He gave them a map and a radio, and told them that once they got close to Gibson, they could try raising them on it.

  The constant stress of staying alert and on guard got to Mort first. Every few minutes, he dug around in his saddle bag until he pulled out a strip of deer jerky. He’d wolf it down, then go for another. He had to be doing something, or else he became a real fidgety sonofabitch. Being on the back of a horse in the middle of the woods wasn’t a real good place to get his organizing, OCD fits out of his system. Eventually, the sun started to go down behind the western hilltops.

  “Psst,” Mort hissed.

  Brad turned in his saddle. Mort motioned to the sky, then shrugged. Brad shook his head and firmly pointed ahead, indicating that they were going to keep moving.

  Mort frowned and looked around at Adams, who loosened the grip on his reins. Mort copied his movements, as he knew Brad had already done the same. They gave their horses the freedom to pick their own footing and direction through the darkening woods, only pulling back if the animals sped up or began to take them too far off course.

  If someone had asked Mort a few years ago if he ever thought he’d be riding a horse through the woods at night, across country he’d never even seen before, he’d have laughed and told them it was time to take their medication.

  The three of them had been well trained by Jeff Fetter and the people of Fort Reuben. They’d learned how to shoot, how to field dress an animal, how to set up a camp, how to tend a garden, and how to not get their asses torn apart by zombies. Mort had liked Jeff and his people, and if it’d been up to him, they’d have stayed right there with them for the rest of their lives. Living simply, like the pioneers did, in an honest-to-God fort, not far from the Ohio river.

  Then the gabs had shown up, killing zombies, and shortly behind them came Agent Briggs. That man was a bastard of monumental proportions. However, he was the Agent chosen by PhoenTek’s leadership to finish their training, so they tried their best to keep their mouths shut and learn what they had to just so Briggs would go away.

  Which basically amounted to shit they already knew. Mort and Adams already had a good handle on their specific Psy abilities, and Brad had come a long way with Mort’s guidance. So what actually happened was Briggs bitched at them from daylight ‘til dark and repeated the same tiring lecture day after day.

  The gabs must be protected. The CCs must be protected. You are grunts. You will do as you’re told, go where you’re told, and never question your orders or duty.

  And they had done just that. Up until they saw gabs slaughter living, breathing human beings, the true purpose of Project Phoenix.

  They’d been ordered to the West Virginia CC after PhoenTek learned it had gone offline. The WV Guard had since mutinied, much to the chagrin of PhoenTek, so the three of them ended up working with some “independent contractors” PhoenTek had shipped in from who knows where. Eventually they got the place up and running and went back home to Fort Reuben in Ohio.

  Everything seemed to be going fine. According to plan. The gabs did what they were created to do: they roamed around and killed the dead. What people that were left finally had a chance to catch their breath, make lives for themselves. In many areas, civilization sprang up again. Granted, it was more primitive than what they’d been used to, but it was still a life.

  The gabs did a fine job doing what they’d been made to do. And when they attacked the Fort that night, ripping apart all their friends, they’d done a fine job at that, too.

  ✽✽✽

  The next afternoon, another mob of terminators hit. Bill’s bowmen scattered out along the rooftops as they’d planned. Each had an extra quiver of arrows, and a few of the older women went around and refilled them as needed. Since Bill and his people had arrived, they’d been busy making arrows with a lathe and some other equipment Kasey had hauled back in the SUV. Bill had said he’d taught several how to do it, because using bows was much more efficient than using guns.

  He wasn’t wrong about that.

  The terminators came upon the dead first. It was like watching people fling themselves into a woodchipper. After the first couple waves of that, the rest looked around, now on alert. They sniffed at the air and grunted at each other.

  “Make it rain, boys,” Bill said into his walkie.

  Arrows loosed and fell into the terminators. Most hit home. Some missed. A few minutes later, it was over with no casualties.

  “Alright,” Bill said over the radio. “Get out there and collect yer arrows. Even the ones that’re broke. We’ll use ‘em fer somethin’.”

  Michael looked up from where he stood in the street and gave Bill a thumbs up. Bill returned it, and left the roof to see his wife.

  Michael keyed his radio. “All clear.” He got several “all clears” in response. Down at the end of the street, at the intersection next to part of the chained zombies, Kasey stepped down from the porch from where she and Jake had watched the slaughter. One of the dead things was actually chained to the porch banister, but she didn’t pay it any mind. She looked out over the terminator bodies, then back at Michael. He threw up a hand to her, and she nodded back. Jake, of course, grinned and fist-bumped the air.

  “You know where she is. That’s all that matters.” Rabbit stepped up beside him and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Yeah. But I wish she’d just listen for once in her damn life,” Michael said. He turned until he faced Rabbit. “We need to go around and check the dead. Then you can explain this ‘upkeep’ you told me about.”

  Rabbit didn’t respond. His face was set and he stared down the street, looking at nothing.

  Michael grimaced. “It’s really that gross, huh?”

  “Take a walk with me, sir,” Rabbit said.

  If the look on his face wasn’t enough, the tone of his voice definitely caught Michael’s attention.

  “Alright,” he said, and followed Rabbit down to Marlo’s store. Rabbit stomped his feet outside the door and went inside. Michael cast one more look up the street, and saw Jonah and Caleb meet up with Jake and Kasey. Kasey tossed a stick for Gus. He nodded to himself and pulled the door shut behind him.

  Rabbit said, “Tell me you’ve got something to drink in here.”

  From the other side of the counter, Marlo pulled out a bottle of water and a bottle of whiskey. “Which one you want?”

  Rabbit took a deep breath and pretended to think about it.

  Marlo tossed the bottle of whiskey. Rabbit caught it, tipped his head toward the backroom, and said, “This way.” He motioned for Michael to follow and they went back to the storeroom. The door was ajar when they got here, so Rabbit toed it open and walked in.

  Michael counted five Guardsmen. One was on the satellite phone, deep in conversation. Another stood close to him with a map in his hands, and crossed things out each time the one on the phone pointed at something. Another Guardsman leaned against the wall while two others questioned him.

  Rabbit walked straight over to the three along the wall. “How long?”

  The nervous-looking one being questioned just shook his head. One of the others who’d been asking questions turned to Rabbit. “They’re about half a day out, sir. Maybe a little more.”

  Rabbit swore under his breath and twisted the cap back onto the whiskey bottle.

  “Wait,” Michael asked. He was almost afraid to step any closer to them, for fear of what shit news they had. “Who’s about half a day out?” Goosebumps broke out over his skin and his fingertips went numb.

  Rabbit hitched a thumb at the nervous man leaning against the wall. “That�
��s one of the scouts I sent out before. Only one to make it back, actually.”

  “Goddamnit,” the soldier on the satellite phone said. He jabbed the map and the man holding it closed his eyes.

  Michael and Rabbit watched the pair a moment, then shared a look.

  “There’s more coming,” Michael said.

  Rabbit nodded. “More coming. So many, he couldn’t get an accurate count. All coming up from the south.”

  “From the CC.”

  “Yep.” Rabbit gestured to the pair on the phone and map. “Those two, well…” He fell silent and waited.

  The soldier slammed the satellite phone down and rubbed his face. He motioned for the other to show Rabbit the map. “Not good, sir. Word’s moving pretty slow right now, but so far it looks like too many people didn’t get under cover in time.”

  Michael stepped forward and grabbed the map. “Show me.”

  The soldier looked to Rabbit, who nodded, so he continued. “No, I mean everywhere, sir. All over the state. And down in Kentucky, over in Ohio, up in Pennsylvania. Or, at least, the outposts we’ve been able to contact. They’re all reporting the same thing.”

  “Jesus,” Michael whispered.

  “So it’s the same all over,” Rabbit said, his voice lowered. “It’s not just our CC pumping those things out.”

  The soldier who’d been on the satellite phone swallowed hard before answering. “No, sir. Not just ours.”

  Rabbit twisted the cap back off the bottle and took a long swig of whiskey. Then he passed it to Michael, who obliged. Liberally.

  “We can’t worry about the whole Tri-State area right now, or the whole damn country, for that matter,” Michael finally said. He handed the map to Rabbit and turned to face the rest of the room. “And you don’t have time to go south and do something about the CC. We need you here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We’ve got this town as secured as it’s gonna get. There’s nothing more we can do. And what we’ve done, it’s not enough. It won’t be enough to stop that horde that’s on the way. So what the hell do we do, gentlemen?”