The Dead Familiar (Winterhaven Series)

by J. D. Mckenna

  Sam had been driving for ten or fifteen minutes when he came upon a little cabin in the woods. The instructions said that his destination was farther ahead, but the cabin was positioned in such a way as to sit more or less in the middle of the path. The gravel drive actually curved around it to one side, with a gate lowered from a hinge next to the cabin blocking its’ path.

  It’s a guardhouse...Sam realized as he sat staring.

  He also noticed that there was a light on within. He wondered if he was supposed to wait for acknowledgment or go up and knock. Loath to abandon the safety of his vehicle, he sat parked for a minute or two.

  Jack didn’t mention a guard house, but this wasn’t just thrown together, it clearly was built along with this drive, so what does that mean?

  When it became clear that no one was going to come out to greet them, Sam made a decision.

  Ah, forget it. I’ll go have a look.

  Telling Dane to slide into the driver seat and be ready to bolt if anything went wrong, Sam exited the vehicle and shut the door after him. Stretching slightly, he stuck his hands in his pockets and started sauntering over to the structure, trying to project an air of nonchalance.

  Even if this is something other than the first part of the compound, I can just play it out as a group of lost college kids. There’s no reason I would be nervous, so I just have to play it cool and no one will suspect anything is wrong.

  Stepping up on the porch, he gave the door a loud knock, calling out for anyone inside After a couple of seconds, he began to hear rustling sounds from within. Stepping back, just in case, he waited for someone to answer the door. As footsteps padded over inside, he felt his anxiety rising, fear starting to seep into him.

  Damn it, relax. it’s probably just some campers or a guard or something, damn.

  As the door swung open, Sam was momentarily blinded by the light from within, obscuring his view of whoever had opened the door. Blinking the light away, he focused on the figure in front of him, fear still rising in the back of his throat.

  “Sam!?” the figure asked.

  “Gary...?!” Sam choked out, “Damn, man, you almost gave me a heartattack! God is it good to see you! I take it this means we found the place?”

  Sam felt cool relief wash over him as he realized that the sleepy looking man standing in front of him, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt was none other than his brother’s friend, Gary Scofield. Sam had met him a year or so back when his brother had brought Gary to one of Sam’s football games. They had all gone out for a beer afterwards and hit it off splendidly. Looking the man over, Sam recognized how much the last year had worn on Gary. His eyes looked sunken, deep purple bags hanging underneath them. He had stress wrinkles forming across his face, and his short black hair looked greasy and unkempt. A few pimples had even sprung out on his face, probably from crappy food and a lack of sleep.

  Keeping his observations to himself, Sam just pounded fists with Gary and went on. “So what, you didn’t notice the group of cars parked outside? Or maybe you just wanted me to do a quick Hills Have Eyes/Cabin In The Woods type of shit walking up here. Hell man, don’t tell me you were asleep?” Sam guessed..

  The blush spreading across Gary’s face was all the confirmation Sam needed to know that he had hit his mark. Gary had fallen asleep out here in the gatehouse, snoring right on through Sam and his friends appearance.

  “So anyways, is this it?” Sam asked, looking around the spacious cabin/guard house. “I guess I thought it would be bigger...I brought some friends with me, will there be space for everyone?” Sam asked quizzically.

  Gary, recovering from his embarrassment, laughed at that. “Ha, yeah. there will be plenty of space man. This isn’t the place, just an outlying guard house we established. Eventually, it will be staffed with a squad to let us know if anyone is coming our way, but for now we’re a little undermanned. I was out here working earlier and told homebase that I’d stay and keep an eye out for anyone showing up. The, ahh, sleeping… that part was an accident.” He shook his head, still embarrassed at his lack of attentiveness.

  “Oh well man, no harm done. We’re here, want to ride back with us?” Sam asked.

  “Sure, let me lock up quickly and then we can go.” Gary replied.

  While Gary worked at closing up shop in the guardhouse, Sam started walking back to the car, smiling and waving to show everyone it was ok and that he knew Gary. The smile he wore froze and then faltered as his mind fought to process what he was seeing.

  As it stumbled to create order from the picture it was seeing, he took a few more steps forwards, stopping just as his brain clicked with understanding. On the other side of the line of cars, just emerging from the trees, a line of violent looking men were trying to sneak up on the vehicles. They all wore matching D.O.C. uniforms, and Sam surmised that they must be recently escaped convicts.

  Panicking, he started to sprint back towards the cars, waving his hands to get the driver’s attentions and warn them to get the hell away from the encroaching mob of criminals. Following the line of Sam’s eyes, Dane was the first to notice the men about to attack his car. He responded quickly, slamming his foot down on the pedal. The car went roaring off and away, careening down the road.

  Realizing they had been discovered, the attacking men gave up any pretense of stealth, opening up with shotguns and pistols at the line of cars. All four of the vehicles were able to drive off at first, but the bullets tearing through them took a toll. One of the car’s driver must have been shot, because the vehicle suddenly skewed left and rammed itself into the side of the building. Sam waved Dane to keep going, simultaneously running to the car to check for survivors.

  While all this had been happening, Gary had run inside and radioed home base in warning. That duty now accomplished, he joined Sam by the side of the wrecked vehicle, helping him wrench one of the twisted doors open. The driver was dead, as were two of the passengers. Only one of Sam’s teammates, a big offensive linemen who had been sitting shotgun seemed to still be breathing. He was fairly out of it, but didn’t have any obvious injuries.

  Most likely a concussion.

  Between the two of them, Gary and Sam were able to wrestle him out of the car, dragging his limp body around to the back of the building.

  The convicts had made it to the building, and were noisily rooting through the vehicle for supplies. They had failed to notice Sam and Gary in the dark, the rescue having been obscured by the smoking car. Still, it was only a matter of time before they came around back and discovered the men. With the lineman still unconscious, they couldn’t escape by foot.

  Desperately searching for options that didn’t involve abandoning his teammate Luke to the convicts, Sam knelt in a panic, coming up empty. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead, and fear had him by the throat. He fought it down, determined to stay calm in the face of danger. With no other options, he had just decided to try and drag his teammate as far into the woods as he could and go to ground, hoping the convicts left.

  The sound of a roaring engine put his plans on hold, and before he could believe his eyes, his buddy Dane had driven his car right back through the fray. Dane pushed it through the dodging convicts, squealing to a stop next to the trio. He threw the doors open. Head down, with bullets now ripping over head, Dane gave Sam a smirk.

  “Need a lift?” he asked innocently.

  Sam gaped at his friend for a moment before firing into motion. Throwing Luke in, he and Gary jumped in after, laying down to try and avoid fire. Dane kept his head down, peeking over the dashboard as he slithered the car over the gravel and down the road. They were running towards the compound ahead and leaving the convicts in their dust. Looking incredulously at his buddy, Sam finally found the words to speak.

  “Did you just make a fucking joke...?! With bullets flying, you find the time to come back and rescue us, but you do it with the perfect line? Oh my god, I can’t believe you man, that was fucking crazy!”

  Laughing l
oudly with adrenaline, Sam clapped his buddy on the back, thrilled to be alive. He wasn’t mad at his friend, just shocked by Dane’s presence of mind in effecting a successful rescue while still delivering a calm joke in the middle of a firefight.

  Caught up in the rush of surviving a near-death experience, neither Sam nor Dane noticed that Gary wasn’t joining in on the celebrations. They were almost a mile down the road before Sam turned to his friend and noticed the blood frothing up from between his lips and the stain soaking through his shirt.

  “Shit! Gary’s been hit! Shit, shit, shit!” Sam cried in anguish. He quickly let his medical training take over, what little of it he had. Though still an undergraduate in pre-med, he had done the paramedic training and knew how to stabilize a patient for transport at least. Ripping off Gary’s shirt, he sought the entry wound.

  Damn, that went right through his chest, possibly a lung. This is really bad, we have to get him back as fast as we can, or he won’t make it.

  Putting pressure on the wound and trying to slow Gary’s blood loss, he urged Dane to hurry and then went about encouraging Gary to stay calm. In the dark woods, with dawn coming soon, the men drove for safety. Dane gripping the wheel tightly, Luke still passed out on the seat. Sam sat trying to keep Gary alive, but Gary was slowly, slowly bleeding away his life in the backseat of a Pontiac.

  Chapter 13: The School Bus

  3:37am

  August 16th, 2015

  2 miles out of St. Cloud

  With a raised fist and click on the mic, Jack brought his convoy to a halt. He surveyed his band of survivors, noting the bleary eyed gazes they returned. Many of them had gone at least twenty hours without sleep, engaged in more activity than they were generally used to. The stress was starting to show; they were growing irritable, with communication between the vehicles having ceased several hours earlier.

  Luckily, the route out of the city had been clear enough to avoid any traffic snarls; they had been making pretty decent time. By sticking to side streets (and completely ignoring traffic laws), they had bypassed the worst groupings of other refugees. Without any major event having yet occurred, it seemed like power and emergency services were still nominally functional, though it wouldn’t last. Rioter's and armed bands like the one they had crossed paths with in Shoreview were proliferating, but the state government had mobilized the national guard and were keeping things under wraps for the time being.

  The battle between the authorities and armed citizens was breaking out in every major city, Jack knew that this semi-controlled peace would crumble when the bombs started dropping, but for now it gave the illusion of control. His gut told him that it wouldn't be much longer before that illusion was stripped away; when that happened, people would find themselves truly alone.

  He was therefore understandably eager to reach the compound that he and Gary had prepared. Now that he had gotten his followers out of the city and its associated dangers, they did have a little bit more flexibility in terms of their route. With St. Cloud just ahead, he was debating their course.

  The convoy could probably drive through in safety, saving time and giving him an opportunity to pick up more followers, but it would be at a risk. There was no way to accurately know what waited for them in the city. They could run afoul of more rioters, or even law-enforcement, costing them time and trouble. Their heavily armed convoy would be seen as threat by either set of people. and the last thing he wanted was to make targets of his friends.

  The Archangel Protocol had been designed to rescue a select few people from the worst areas of disaster. These people were selected because of their importance to Jack or Gary, their value as potential survivors, and their ability to get to safe zones. Coordinates for the compound were included for all, though some received secondary locations if they were too far away to realistically reach the compound. A packet of all the information that had been gathered in relation to the government, possible threats to be faced, and survival information was also distributed to each recipient.

  The goal for the local recipients was to extract them before anything actually occurred, making it easier and thereby assuring a higher success rate. Jack had always envisioned doing more however. In his heart he hoped to save as many people as possible, whether they were on the Archangel Protocol or not. That desire to rescue more people had to be balanced against the safety of his current followers however. Through the course of the night, everyone they had come across had either been actively hostile, or completely hiding out and unresponsive. This had left Jack without the opportunity to accomplish his secondary goal of attracting other survivors to join him. St. Cloud offered him another chance to do just that, but the reward had to be balanced against the risk for his people.

  Looking down towards the city once more, Jack made his choice. The people of St. Cloud would have to survive on their own; he had to focus on the safety of those who already followed him.

  Maybe I can come back, someday. I pray some of these poor souls will survive… though the odds are against them.

  Communicating the new route to Cyrus, Jack braced himself as the trucks lurched forwards again, knowing that it would be difficult for him to watch the lights fade behind him. The near morning air went whipping through the length of his shaggy brown hair, flowing it past his squinted eyes.

  Should of brought goggles, Mad Maxed this shit. Oh well, next time. He thought with a melancholy chuckle, trying to distract himself with humor.

  Deciding to check up, he grabbed hold of his mic and connected to the Cove vehicle, "How's your dad doing Liz?" he asked.

  "He's ok, pretty much asleep now, mom's been changing his bandages but he hasn't really noticed. Whatever that woman gave him must have been pretty strong." she informed him.

  "Ok, good, let me know if anything changes alright?"

  "Absolutely...." she let static hang for a minute.,"look, Jack, I just wanted to say… thank you. If you hadn't come for us, we would probably be dead. It means a lot."

  "Don't mention it Liz. I could never have just left you. I'll check in with you later but I gotta stay focused for now. Jack out." he said, signing off abruptly.

  Liz was trouble. He didn't really know that he could still claim to be in love with her, and frankly, there was too much work still ahead to consider something like a relationship even if he were. Still, he couldn't deny the draw; the tug at his heart when he heard her voice. The same traits that made her such a captivating women were still there, same as some of his former feelings.

  Jack shook his head, determined to clear thoughts of her from his mind. He hadn't saved her in order to win her back; he just couldn't have borne the thought of leaving her while he went on and survived. He was determined however to make sure that he didn't use his rescue as emotional leverage, intentionally or not. It would be wrong, and would lead to nothing good. Mind back in the game, Jack looked down the road.

  This far out of the city, the highway’s were clear. 94W curved and slid through the forested wild of West Minnesota, unencumbered by humanities’ presence. Animals could be seen in the flash of headlights on occasion, jumping away from his M35’s roaring engine sounds.

  I wonder how the animals will fare once we are gone? A lot might get hunted as people starve in the next few months, but then there won’t be that many humans left. Will the wolves, deer, and bears run this place once we are gone, or will they go down with us?

  His thoughts were interrupted by an annoying electronic beeping sound that it took him awhile to place. Wait, is that my fucking cell phone? Pulling it from his pocket, he starred in marvel, shocked that it was still receiving a signal. The number came up as unknown, but Jack wasn't about to let this minor miracle pass without investigation. Tapping the touch screen, he answered, putting the phone to his ear.

  "Hello?" he asked curiously.

  "Jack! Holy shit, I can't believe I got through. I've been trying for hours, but it kept saying that all available lines were busy. My phone ended up dying so I
tried one of the guys. Damn, it's good to hear your voice man." came the reply.

  "Bear...is that you?" Jack asked incredulously.

  "Yeah man! Listen, I got your message, but I was on a trip with the rugby team. We were out in South Dakota for the weekend but got eliminated early. Long story short, we were on our way back when the radio started picking up the news. We talked it over and decided against heading back to the cities, just in case. I've been trying to contact you to see what you knew ever since." Bear replied.

  Jack couldn't believe his luck. He had given up his friend as a loss. To discover the possibility of his survival invigorated Jack’s tired spirit.

  "Bear, where are you right now?" he asked.

  "St. Cloud man. We got a couple rooms at the Hotel Six and decided to spend the night, see what we thought in the morning. The news is looking pretty bad. Minneapolis is rioting, the guard and police have it about half contained apparently. There's a big fire in the north suburbs, and people are being told to evacuate. St. Cloud is better for now, the soldiers from Ripley showed up a few hours agoa, put down rioters, and declared martial law. Streets are quiet but we are pretty freaked out here. Hell, where are you?" Bear asked.

  "Actually, we’re not very far man," Jack thought for a minute, "look, Bear. St. Cloud isn't going to be safe much longer and the Cities...well it'll be a long time before it's safe to go back there. We are a few miles out of St. Cloud, what are the chances that you can come meet up with me?" Jack asked hopefully.

  Bear sounded torn over the phone, "Well, I want to man, but I don't know. I can't just leave my team and come meet up with you. These are my guys, and I wouldn't feel right abandoning them. Even if I could do it, I don’t know about sneaking out on the military. They might not take too kindly to it.”

  Jack responded enthusiastically, "Hell Bear, bring them! I've got space for everyone. Just make sure you get going now. As for the Martial Law, they don't have the numbers to actually enforce that. They are banking on the appearance of strength substituting for it’s actuality. All you have to do is make sure you let whatever patrols you’ve been seeing go by, then grab a vehicle and sprint for the edge of town. There just aren’t enough soldiers still stationed at Ripley for me to be wrong on this. I’ll hold the convoy at the next intersection, just to the west of town. Get to me as soon as you can?”