American Revenant (Book 3): The Monster In Man
Page 18
“What’s your name? I’m Gary Higgen-botham.”
“Gordon Fletcher. I’m not trying to be rude, Gary, I just have to watch out for my people.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get that. Is this all of you? You have more people?” Gary’s eyes shifted over Gordon’s group, sizing them up.
Tamara watched the traveling group closely while Gordy spoke to Gary, taking in the dirty bunch standing on the other side of the cattle-guard. One of the women in particular stood out from the others. This woman had not looked up from the ground once since they had stopped. Long filthy brown hair hung over her features, obscuring her eyes.
“I’m not sure that’s any of your concern right at this moment, Gary,” Gordy was saying.
Tam continued to watch the woman, noticing her hands. They twitched rapidly, up and down then out to the side, fingers flicking in and out, then hands back together and jerking. One of the men standing next to her nudged the woman, telling her to stop. The man, she noticed he was missing the pinky finger on his left hand, spoke quietly. “Keep that shit up they’ll think we’re all crazy, damn it.”
“Sure, sure Gordon, I understand. Forgive me if we seem a bit out of sorts. It’s been a while since we spoke to real people, other than amongst ourselves, that is,” Gary said.
Tam watched the woman’s hands, suddenly realizing that she wasn’t just twitching uncontrollably. One hand would cup underneath the other, with the thumb sticking up on the top hand, this figure she would jerk up once before dropping her hands to her sides, fingers quickly shaping letters before coming back to center, starting the process over again.
The woman was using sign language to sign the word “Help” over and over.
She saw Missing Pinky nudge the woman again, this time whispering something in her ear. The fluttering hands instantly fell still at her sides.
“I can understand that, Gary. We have a process…”
Tamara stepped up beside Gordy, turning her back to those beyond the cattle-guard gate. Quickly she described what she had seen. When he asked, “You sure?” she looked into his eyes and nodded gravely.
“Everything alright over there?”
“Everything’s fine, Gary. One of my people was simply reminding me about being civil and decent even now. Gary, my people and I are going to huddle up here for a second to discuss this, ok?”
Gary looked puzzled for a moment, as if he could not understand that a leader would ask others opinions instead of telling them how it would be.
After a minute of quiet murmuring in the group huddle they broke apart, Gordy stepping to the gate to face Gary through the bars.
“Gary, we want to help,” he said, emphasizing help. Calvin began to lower the gate as Gordy spoke, following his cue. “Here’s the deal, though. You guys need to stand there, hands on your heads for a moment.”
“Hey, there’s no reason for that, Gordon.”
“This is our house,” Gordy said, his voice becoming knifelike, cold and hard, with an edge, “you want our help then you follow our rules.” Gordy and his family of survivors had dealt with far too many cruel people since the world changed to take chances.
Gary could hear that sharp edge to Gordy’s voice and complied without further argument. Everyone in the group followed Gary’s lead as he slowly placed both hands on top of his head.
As soon as the gate settled with a clang Tamara and Mike moved across, walking directly to the woman signing for help. The rest of Gordy’s team stood in front of the traveling group, weapons at the ready.
Rick walked beside Gordy as they stepped up to Gary, Gordy leaning on the heavy cane.
Tamara leaned in to whisper something while looking in the woman’s downcast eyes, then she took her gently by the elbow and led her toward the gate.
“What the hell’s going on?” Gary asked, watching the two women. Mike held back, watching. “You can’t just take one of my people, damn it!”
“She asked for our help,” Gordy said calmly, glaring directly into Gary’s eyes.
“Bullshit, she never said anything! Hell, she can’t even talk,” said Missing Pinky.
“We woulda traded her to you bastards if that’s what you wanted!” Gary’s face above his beard turned red with rage.
Tamara stopped, spinning on her heel. Snatching the pistol from the holster on her hip she walked up to Gary, slamming the barrel into his forehead, causing his head to snap back.
“Tam, come on, don’t,” Rick said.
“You can’t trade PEOPLE you fucking prick!” Tam screamed, spittle flying from her lips. “People aren’t things! People are people, you…you, FUCKER!” Tam punctuated each sentence by shoving Gary’s head with the gun.
Gary’s men dropped their hands, reaching for weapons.
Gordy’s crew brought weapons to bear on the group and Alex racked the pump shotgun to make certain they knew it. “Try anything, anything at all,” Mike said, his voice a deep growl, “and not one of you shits will make it back to the highway.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Gary asked. “That woman hasn’t ever spoken a single word, and she was standing right in the middle of us, we would have heard her. I don’t know what you people are trying to pull…”
Standing in front of the gate, waiting to walk across, the woman took two steps toward Gary and raised the middle finger on both hands. “Fuck you!” she spat, her voice thick, oddly distorted.
Gordy looked past Gary, saying, “If any of you would like to leave this group, or feel you are in danger, step up here.”
Both women moved cautiously away from the travelers, one towing the boy behind her. A bearded man wearing an old camouflage jacket reached out for the woman pulling the boy behind her. “You’re not going anywhere, bitch!”
Three shots popped quickly, two red rosettes appeared on the man’s jacket, along with a tiny hole in his forehead. “I said anything, didn’t I?” The members of the traveling party froze in place, realization settling in that if they wished to walk away alive they needed to be still.
One of the men, a tall man with a scar on his right cheek, spoke up. “I’d like to leave.” Every eye turned to him and Gary spat, “Always knew you were a piss-ant little faggot, Farron.”
“Why, because I wouldn’t join your sick ass in raping women? Fuck off and die, Gary.” Farron turned haunted eyes to Gordy, “Can I join you?”
Nodding, Gordy said, “Leave your weapons on the ground and step over here slowly. Any of you try stopping him I’m happy to have this ended right here and now.”
Farron joined the women standing at the gate and watched, waiting to see what these people would do.
“What do we do with you guys?”
“We’ll just turn around and leave,” Gary said.
“Remember when we talked about putting heads on spikes along the road, to warn people away?” Calvin asked, savoring the reaction to his mention of a conversation that never happened.
Gordy turned to his son, grinning. “Yeah, I remember. Not a bad idea really. It would stop people like these pricks from coming around wouldn’t it.” Gordy stared into Gary’s eyes as he spoke, relishing the fear he saw swirling madly in the man.
Gary and his remaining men started to protest when Gordy raised a hand to cut them off. “Take that fucking body with you and get the hell out of here. Oh, and Gary, if we ever see you anywhere near here again there will be no talking, understand? Tam, let him go.”
Tam looked at Gordy and back to Gary. She shoved his head once more, hard, with the pistol and walked away to join those standing by the gate.
As the men walked away Gordy pulled Mike and Rick to the side. They spoke quietly for several minutes before Gordy joined his people at the gate.
“Where are they going?” Calvin asked.
“They’re just going to follow them for a while, make sure they don’t double back and try something stupid.”
“Should have shot them all,” said the young woman without a child.
“You won’t have to worry about them anymore,” Gordy said. He watched as Mike and Rick faded into the trees and nodded. “They won’t be bothering you ever again.”
Chapter 34
“No kidding? Tam went all badass on the dude?”
“Yeah, you should’ve seen her. I really thought she was going to put a bullet in his head. Would have saved me and Rick all that damn walking, that’s for sure. My back is killing me.” Mike stood, arching his back, stretching the aching muscles.
“I’m glad she didn’t, though,” Jimmy said, a sad look passing across his features. “It’s hard to come back from that.”
Mike studied his friend for a moment before speaking. “Have you? Come back from it I mean.”
“You don’t have to worry about me brother, I’m good. I won’t be losing my shit again, at least not like that.”
Mike nodded. “Well, that’s good to hear.”
“So how far did you have to follow those guys?”
“They went about three miles up the road, to Antioch Lane.”
“Ah, ok, I know the road.”
“Yeah, well, they sat down in the road and started drinking from a bottle one guy had in his pack. Didn’t take them long to suck down enough liquid courage to start heading back to Saverton, talking about killing everyone.”
“And that’s when you guys handled things?”
“And that’s when we handled things,” Mike stated.
Jimmy nodded, understanding that his friends waited until they knew the small group of men had become a threat to the community. Taking a life was never easy, but it was easier to live with when you knew that person meant harm to those you cared about. “Anything going on around camp right now?”
“Yeah, Gordy’s called a meeting of everyone for this evening. Not sure what it’s about, though. You feel up to walking down there?”
“Oh hell yes. I need to get out of this cabin for a while.”
“I’ll come by, walk down with you.”
“Sounds good, thanks Mike.”
Several hours later Mike and Jimmy, joined by Jimmy’s daughters, made their way to the ball field where a large fire was already burning.
Jimmy patiently and gladly accepted the pats on the back and good wishes for his health. Nothing could compare to the feeling of family and their care and concern.
Anna and Louis went through the crowd with cups, a kettle of hot water and packets of instant hot cocoa mix. Many in the large gathering took a cup, holding tightly to the warmth in the chill evening air, some sipped at whiskey or rum.
Gordy waited a while, letting everyone enjoy the time together before he stood up and cleared his throat loudly to get attention. He spoke at length on everything they had recently gone through, and the changes it had brought upon the community as a whole.
“We live in an inexplicable world now, where the dead walk and the living scratch out an existence. We have suffered loss, and each of us knows the pain of it well. But we continue to push forward, to fight on and rebuild something out of the world we’ve left behind.
“We have added many new people to our ranks, and I see us continuing to do so. In light of recent events I don’t think we should put ourselves too far out into the world, not yet. When we have enough people that we can do that safely then we can reexamine that, but for now I want to ask what you as a group think of putting some signs out there.
“Nothing extravagant, just a simple sign with the name of the settlement and the distance to us.”
“Do you really think we can protect and defend this place if we have to?”
“I do, Everett. The wall is done, and Alex thinks that with a little help he can put together some dual-rifle swivel mounts to place along the wall in strategic locations.”
“What name are we going to use, Saverton or Camp Oko Tipi?”
“Actually Lynn, that brings up something else I wanted to get everyone’s input on. What would you think about giving the Oko Tipi/Saverton settlement a new name?”
“Damn good idea,” Rick said from the back of the crowd where he stood beside Trish, with Tyler on his shoulders.
Gordy smiled, “Glad you think so, now what do we call it?”
People began to shout random and competing thoughts, building to a loud din until Gordy held his hands up, shouting, “Ok, Ok!” Gordy looked around the quieted group for a moment. “We have our American heritage to think about, as well as our Missouri heritage. The name should take that into account. We haven’t given up on ourselves, or the importance of our heritage, which also speaks to the future we are working to secure.”
“Hey, Gordy,” Jimmy said from an old folding chair brought out from the main hall. “I think you just said the name, several times.”
“Uh, not sure what you mean, Jimbo.”
“Heritage, Gordy!” Mike said, holding up a bottle of whiskey.
Gordy began to speak, then closed his mouth, thinking.
“Sounds perfect to me, Gordon.” Jan said.
“Is everyone happy with renaming our settlement here and calling it Heritage?” He heard no dissent, and said to the crowd, “Then that settles it, from now on this place will be called Heritage, Missouri!”
The group celebrated well into the evening, until the night became cold enough to chase most inside to the warmth of small fires and family.
****
“Hey, I’m going to go out and put up a few of these signs, you want to ride along?”
“Yeah, sure, one sec.” Jimmy slipped on his boots while Mike waited just inside the door.
“Jimmy, I’ll be helping Evie for a while this morning, and then I’m going to spend some time with the new people.”
“Ok, Tam, I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Oh, I’m not worried, because you won’t be doing anything other than riding along, right?” Tam looked at Mike as she spoke, sending a clear message. He nodded, assuring her that he understood.
Jimmy gave Tam a kiss as he headed out the door, following Mike down to the waiting pickup truck. In the bed of the truck lay three handmade signs each reading Heritage, Missouri followed by a distance in miles.
“So where are we taking these?” Jimmy asked.
“The first sign, the one that says “Follow N” we’re going to put up at the junction of V and T outside New London. Another one is going near Monkey Run.”
“Why out there? All those gut-suckers walking around Sawyer’s Creek and the cave campground will stop people coming from that direction.”
“Gordy thinks we’ll eventually clear all the dead walking around the campground and Sawyer’s Creek so he wants a sign out that way.”
Jimmy shrugged, “Ok, then. Better than going out looking for people.”
“You got that right. I don’t know about you, Jimbo, but I’m ready to hole up for a while. We can spend some time building up what we have here, make ourselves stronger, better able to handle whatever comes our way.” Mike drove slowly down Highway N, in no hurry to complete the task he and Jimmy were on.
“I’m with you on that. I’ve had enough of out there,” Jimmy said, nodding at the passenger window.
“I bet you have. Man, it’s a wonder you survived all that shit, and somehow didn’t get bit.”
“Tell me about it,” Jimmy said, gazing out the window.
“How’re Tam and the girls doing?”
“They’re ok I guess. The kids don’t want to leave me alone for five minutes. I think they would hang on me constantly if Tam wasn’t always telling them to be careful, they might hurt me.”
“To be expected I guess,” Mike said as he pulled to the side of the road.
Both men got out of the truck, Jimmy leaning against the warm front of the vehicle, watching as Mike took a heavy hammer and one of the signs out of the bed and pounded it into the ground.
The drive to Monkey Run took nearly twenty minutes, both men enjoying the time to talk and the bright clear day.
Jimmy nodded. “Yeah, sure. Don’t get too damn close, though. I’m not in fighting shape at the moment.”
Mike chuckled, “No problem there, besides, I have my trusty hammer.” Mike patted the medieval style war-hammer lying in the seat beside him.
Mike stopped the truck in the middle of the road about a football field’s distance from horde of zombies still crowding the blacktop, blocking the way into Hannibal. Several turned in the direction of the truck, hearing the rumbling engine in the distance.
Mike quickly turned the truck around, saying, “Well, they’re still hanging around and pretty damned attentive.”
“One more sign, where we taking this one?”
“Sign says ten miles, close to Ashburn I think.”
The men talked as Mike drove, the idle chatter of old friends, interspersed with the banter they affectionately shared.
Jimmy, who had slid down in the worn seat, suddenly sat up and pointed out the window. “Mike, what the hell is that?”
Mike glanced at the odometer, noting they had traveled almost seven miles before following Jimmy’s finger. He slowed the truck, straddling the faded yellow line.
Thirty yards from the truck a deer was caught in a barbed wire fence. They could hear the creature bleating in pain as two zombies tore into the panicked beast.
“Damn man, I feel bad for the deer,” Mike said.
“Yeah, me too. Guess we should do something,” Jimmy said, shifting in his seat.
“You’re not doing anything, I’ll handle it.”
“Mike, I didn’t realize you were that afraid of my wife,” Jimmy said with a smile.
Mike smiled back. “Oh hell, man, you have no idea. Walk up with me if you want, but I’ll take care of the gut-suckers.”
“Fine with me.”
One of the dead things was on the opposite side of the deer and partially hidden from view by the other. The zombie with its back to them wore what had once been a bright pink t-shirt, now covered in dark gore that appeared to have soaked the garment from the large flap of skin hanging from the back of its exposed skull. This rotting curtain of scalp wobbled obscenely every time the creature pressed in to take a bite of the still squealing deer.