by TW Brown
“You really think this is it?” Bo asked in a voice that sounded very much unlike the tough guy he had known for over four decades.
“I think it is worse than we can imagine. I think that we might be fighting a losing battle…but I also think we will do whatever we need to do until we can’t do anything else.”
“And what about these four pieces of garbage? How did that happen?”
The chief swallowed the bitterness in the back of his throat. “My fault. I guess I didn’t want to believe folks would go rotten so fast.”
“You’re a damn cop, Adam. How the hell can you not think there are bad people who will take advantage of this?” The huge man threw his arms up gesturing to the countryside they were driving past.
“We ain’t seen this sort of thing here in Liberty, at least not on this level. Not saying we are all angels, but it’s not like we have murders and rapes happening every day.” Chief Gilstrap sighed. “But you’re right…I dropped the ball on this one.”
“Dropped the ball?”
“Can we do this later?” the chief said as he brought the car to a stop beside the dump truck. Jonathan was leaning out the window with a confused look on his face.
“What is going on?” The man opened the door and managed to climb out using the three rung ladder to help get down.
“We have two of them over on Clemson. Ivan said he spotted the other pair coming out of the woods, but they turned around and might be headed back this way.” The chief stepped out into the middle of the road and shielded his eyes from the setting sun as he scanned the tree line for signs of anything.
He saw the flash…but did not have a chance to react. He felt like a fist punched him in the center of the chest. Staggering back, he tried to get a breath, but nothing seemed to be happening. A coppery taste filled his mouth and he felt something trickle down his chin. A burning sensation flooded his pain receptors as he choked on a mouthful of blood while still gasping in futility for a breath that showed no inclination of making its way into his lungs.
He could hear a buzzing sound. Looking up, he saw Bo standing over him with a rifle in his hands. It looked like he was screaming something. Adam Gilstrap tried to hear what the man was yelling, but it could not make its way past that buzz and ringing in his ears. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a moment and focused on catching his breath; besides…he was suddenly more tired than he could ever remember being in his life.
***
Jonathan winced at the sound of a gunshot from way too close. He felt something warm splatter his face. Reaching up, he wiped with his left hand and staggered back when it came away bloody. A second later, he realized that he hadn’t felt a thing. If he was dying now, then maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. There was no pain.
The chief crumpled to the ground beside him and was flat on his back, staring up at the sky with a pained look on his face. After blinking his eyes, Jonathan saw the dark stain on the chief’s shirt. It was growing before his eyes, and then there was the blood leaking from the corners of the chief’s mouth.
The sound of a rifle seemed to explode right next to his head. Ducking, Jonathan glanced over to see big Bo Summers with a .30-06 pressed to his shoulder. He fired a second time and started yelling something about staying on the ground or the next one was gonna be in the face.
When did I hit the ground? he thought as he realized he was now flat on his belly, and right next to the chief who was making a strange, wet wheezing sound that reminded him of sucking through a straw when the drink glass was basically empty.
He heard the sounds of shouting and rolled over to see a group of men advancing on two of those bikers. Both were on the ground with one clutching his leg and the other curled up in the fetal position. There was a lot of hollering about “Don’t move!” and “My leg!” but to Jonathan it was just noise. He was looking over at the chief who was almost as pale as a zombie. The only reason that Jonathan knew the chief wasn’t one of those things was because he was just pale. There were no hints of blue or gray discoloration, and his eyes were not filmed over and shot through with those black tracers.
“The chief’s been shot,” Jonathan said, his voice barely a whisper. He looked around and realized that nobody had heard him. “Hey, get some help over here!” Jonathan made it to his knees and crawled over to the chief. “The chief has been shot!”
Looking over his shoulder, he saw that everybody was busy throwing those two bikers onto their stomachs and checking them for weapons. A hand brushed his face and Jonathan actually let out a little scream. Looking down, he saw the chief’s lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear.
He leaned down so that he could, his ear almost touching the chief’s lips. “Say that again, chief. What can I do?” Try as he might, Jonathan could not dredge up one single thing from any of the first aid classes that he had attended during high school health class or the mandatory ones he’d been forced to go to when he became part of the Domino’s management team.
“Tell her…lock it down. Keep our people safe.” There was a slight gasp, and then a long, slow exhale.
Jonathan popped up and looked down at the man who had been the Liberty, South Carolina Chief of Police for what seemed like forever. The man was still staring straight up, but his eyes were not seeing anything.
And they were changing
A feeling of rage overwhelmed him, and before he realized it, he was on his feet and stomping towards the two bodies lying face down on the side of the road. The closer he got, the faster he moved. The men restraining the bikers had their backs to him and so nobody even noticed until he shoved past two of the men kneeling on the back of the one with the reddish hair.
With everything he had, Jonathan kicked the man. His booted foot found ribs and there was a satisfying crack.
Somebody grabbed him after the third kick. Jonathan thrashed and squirmed, trying to get in another solid boot to the ribs of the bastard lying on the ground. The biker named Kevin looked up at him, a slight trickle of blood now seeping from the corner of his mouth, but nothing like what he’d seen coming from the chief. He was staring into the man’s eyes, all his rage threatening to explode in his chest.
The man made eye contact with Jonathan…and then he smiled.
12
“Thank you.”
“I say we drag them out of town and feed them to some of those monsters!” somebody shouted from the gathered throng that looked to be pretty much anybody not currently on watch or patrol.
Jamie stood on the small stage and looked around the packed high school football stadium. The faces looking back at her were a mixture of fear, hurt, and—most of all—rage. She was having a difficult time not letting herself spiral down those same paths.
At first, she had been shocked when the trucks pulled in with the four men lashed to the grills. Two of them, Kevin Staley and Mark Trees, were bleeding from apparent bullet wounds. Joe Spencer, the slender man with all the tattoos had a busted nose, black eyes, and a gash where his teeth had come through the flesh right below his bottom lip.
Then there was Bob Capka. He was a bit scraped up, but showed no signs of having been injured physically in any other way. He was also the only one of the four who had not said a word. In fact, she hadn’t heard him speak one time since his arrival. And now, with the four men chained up in the boiler room of the high school with armed guards watching them twenty-four hours a day, he still had not said a single word.
She was about to ask why these men were tied to the trucks when Ivan, Bo Summers, and Jonathan all piled out of the second truck in the convoy. They didn’t say a word to anybody as they went to the rear of the giant dump truck. Ivan made eye contact with Jamie and had motioned her over. She and Sophie rushed to where the man stood, and as she got close, she saw tears in the man’s eyes. She had no idea what could cause a man like Ivan Potter to cry, and in that instant, she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to know.
She had not even realized that she had not seen
the chief until the back of the dump truck was opened to reveal what was inside the dump bed. Her hands had flown to her mouth, but it only managed to partially stifle the scream. Standing in the open bay was Chief Adam Gilstrap. Only…it wasn’t him anymore; not really.
This obscene caricature of the Liberty Chief of Police had a dark stain that had spread to almost the entire right side of his shirt. The eyes staring back at her were filmed over and shot full of black tracers. His skin was a bluish-gray and hung loosely on his face, giving him a pathetic look that further removed whatever this thing was from the man he’d been; the man that Jamie Burns remembered.
She had turned to Ivan, but was unable to ask the question. Perhaps she simply did not want the answer. Yet, it didn’t take a college degree to know what the general report would include.
“They did it,” Jonathan whispered.
He stepped up beside Jamie and handed her his cell phone. She looked down and saw a video that was ready to be played. As she watched the footage, she felt an icy chill run up and down her spine. Her blood felt like it froze in her veins.
As she watched the video, Ivan had lured the thing that used to be the chief to the rear of the dump truck’s bed. The thing had actually stepped off the lip and landed on the ground with a terrible snap of bone, then began to struggle to its feet. Ivan and Bo had thrown a coat over its head and then cuffed it and led it to a nearby groundskeeper’s equipment shed.
“What are you doing?” she had asked when they came back.
“Not a damn thing until we talk to Sarah,” Ivan had said solemnly.
“I’ll do it,” Jamie offered.
“You sure?” Ivan asked with a hint of doubt in his tone.
“This is my responsibility. I would like for you to see to the dispersal of this crowd. This is something I have to do.” She had turned to Bo Summers. “I want you to secure the prisoners in the basement of the high school. Put a pair of guards on them. They are not to be left unsupervised for even a moment.”
She recalled being a little surprised when there was not even a hint of questioning as she barked orders. She turned to Sophie after that and told her that all she wanted her to do was ensure that the prisoners did not bleed out. They would stand trial for their actions.
That had been the statement that caused a few people to start voicing protests. She had spun on the cluster of people gathered and leveled her angry glare at them all. “I don’t want to hear it, people. We will do this right.”
Before another word could be said, she had turned and walked away. Her eyes spied the police cruiser and she decided that would do fine. She was just getting behind the wheel when the passenger door opened and Jonathan Patterson jumped in beside her.
“I will deal with you later,” she said. “I don’t have time right now.”
“Deal with me?” he sounded perplexed.
“The note? You were supposedly leaving Liberty, and then you just happen to be in place to record that footage.”
“I will explain everything while you drive over to the chief’s house,” the man had said.
He related his plan and how he figured the only way he could ease his suspicions was to watch these guys for a while. He honestly had not expected anything like what happened. If he’d figured for a moment that the four men were capable of such violence, he would have probably not possessed the nerve. At the most, he just figured they would steal a bunch of supplies or something like that.
He gave his account of what had taken place when the chief got shot, but there was something else he seemed to be struggling with. Jamie waited, but she did not need to be distracted when she walked up to the chief’s house to inform his wife about what happened to her husband.
“Just spit out whatever it is, Jonathan,” she finally said, sounding a bit harsher than she wanted, but right now she just did not have the patience.
“The chief’s last words…they were for you. At least I’m pretty sure they were.”
Jamie pulled the car up in front of the chief’s house. She shut off the engine and turned to face the man beside her.
“He said to tell you to…to lock the town down and keep the people safe.”
Jamie considered the words for a moment. Part of her was stunned. If she had been honest with herself at any point up until that moment, she truly believed that the chief had not held her in any esteem. He certainly hadn’t shown her anything resembling the respect that she felt she deserved. Then a little phrase that her dad had often said rang in the back of her mind.
Respect is earned, not given.
Up to this point, had she done anything to merit that respect? She had been tentative and petulant to the point of ridiculous. Sure, there was nothing in the mayor’s handbook (God, how she wished such a thing actually existed) about how to lead your community through the zombie apocalypse.
Since returning to Liberty after college, she had been the picture of what she believed a proper government official should be. But she had been following text book examples, saying all the right things. Had it all been just an act? When she’d been handed the office of mayor, she had been stunned. Yet, she knew all of the administrative things that needed to be done. What she did not know was how to deal with scenarios that weren’t in the book.
Climbing out of the car, she had told Jonathan to stay put. This was something that she needed to do on her own. And so she had walked up to the door and knocked. When Sarah Gilstrap opened the door, her expression changed in an instant and Jamie was amazed at how the woman had known before she’d even spoken the words. She hadn’t known the details, but she knew the ultimate result and the reason for the visit.
Jamie decided right then that she was going to give the woman as much information as she had. Surely the wife needed to be aware. Then another idea struck her.
“We will be trying the four men for murder. Would you care to be present?”
The woman had nodded. The two shared a few tears and then Jamie asked the second part of her question.
“We need to…put him to rest. Do you want to be present for that?”
After a long pause, the woman wiped her eyes. “I’ll do it.”
A half hour later, Jamie was standing by the grounds keeping shed. Ivan had gone inside with the chief’s wife. A moment later, they both emerged. Two days after that, the trial had been called to order. In less than ten minutes it had been postponed until the next day.
Word had spread fast and when Jamie arrived at the high school she was stunned to discover a line several people wide that wrapped all the way around the building. She decided that if everybody in town wanted to be present, then she would accommodate them.
A platform was hurriedly constructed in the center of the football field. The next day, she called the court to order.
“We want our lawyer!” Kevin Staley had called as he was led in shackles to the chair where he was cuffed and firmly secured.
“You will be acting in your own defense,” Jamie replied, nodding to Bo Summers who quickly shoved a ball gag in the man’s mouth. “But you will speak when it is your turn, and not a moment before.”
With that, the trial began. One by one, all those who had been part of the chief’s team were brought forward to give their accounts. The last person called had been Jonathan Patterson. Unfortunately, there was no power, so his video could not be shared, but Jamie had already come up with a solution. She selected twelve people from those in attendance and had them come up to view the footage of the massacre in the market parking lot.
Once Jonathan’s video was watched, she said that the prosecution was resting its case. She had Bo and Ivan bring Joe Spencer forward first. She asked him if he had anything to say in his defense. After a string of threats and profanity, she simply nodded and the man was restrained and returned to his chair. Next she had them bring Bob Capka.
“Do you have anything to say in your defense?” she asked.
The man flicked his head just enough to get the hair
out of his eyes. He leveled his empty stare at her, but he did not say a word. Fighting the urge to look away, Jamie held his gaze as she told Bo and Ivan to return the man to his chair. She finally let out her breath once his back was to her and he was being led back to his seat beside the others.
Mark Trees was next. She posed the same question to him as she had the other two.
“You people are all on borrowed time,” Mark scoffed. “You think we’re the only ones out there looking out for ourselves?”
“Looking after yourselves?” Jamie shot back. “We opened our town to you and gave you a safe place to live.”
“Safe?” Mark laughed. “Maybe you haven’t been paying attention, but there ain’t no place safe no more.”
“What gives you the right to just come and take what is ours? Kill our people?” Jamie stood up and approached the man. “You’re nothing. You came here with the intention of preying on those you thought were weaker than you.”
“You are weak.” Mark looked up at Jamie with a sneer on his face. “You and these people trying to make some sort of wall using cars and trucks…that you are stealing by the way. You really think that will save you? You think we are the worst things out there?”
“No,” Jamie said before the man could continue. “You are just the worst thing we have met so far. But your sort won’t be causing us problems like this ever again.”
She motioned to Bo and turned her back on the man to return to her podium. She had saved Kevin Staley for last. Part of her dreaded hearing this man speak. She had been fooled worse than any of the other people in town. She had no doubt that he would say things in an attempt to embarrass her. What she would not do is try to lie and cover up the truth; that was probably a big reason the world was in the state it currently found itself.
Steeling herself for the worst, she gave a nod to Ivan. The newly appointed chief of police walked over to the last man and led him to the front of the stage. There was no struggle, and even with a ball gag in his mouth, Jamie could see the man at least attempting a smile. Once the gag was removed, Ivan took a single step back and stood at parade rest just behind and to the left of Kevin.
