“Give me that gun so I can eliminate them right here and now,” he said sternly.
“You’re in no position to make demands,” Jillian told him, stopping to point her finger directly at his face. “And you don’t understand the situation. There aren’t just four of them. We’ll be lucky if their whole lot didn’t survive the apocalypse, then you can count on a caravan driving circus trailers and fucking clown cars through my hometown.”
“So, we run?” Luke asked with a shrug.
“No,” Jillian said firmly. “They don’t get off that easy.”
“We can’t just leave Juan with them,” Gracine said. “I know he’s no longer, you know, but he deserves better than being stuck with those crazies.”
“I don’t plan on leaving anyone behind,” Jillian said. “They overstayed their welcome before, and we got rid of them then.”
“Because you had cops and state troopers,” Luke stated the obvious. “What are we going to do against a small army of oversized morons?”
“We don’t need brawn,” Jillian said, “when brains will work just fine.”
She looked in the direction of their four new enemies, but no one followed them, and as the group made their way to the road, Jillian still saw no signs of threats.
“We need to get our stuff from the house and load up,” Jillian stated.
“So, we are leaving?” Luke asked, his face depicting his confusion.
“No, but we’re going to let them think they’ve won,” Jillian answered.
“This is insane,” Sutton argued. “We should either count ourselves lucky and move on to our next destination, or we should go back and shoot all of them right now.”
Jillian felt a growing anger, because her group didn’t understand how Dark Lady and her people worked. She faulted herself for not giving the more detailed story, but she decided to rectify the situation immediately.
“You guys have to understand these people, and what they’re about. They’re an infestation that will take over my hometown, and then they’ll move on, like nomads, and suck up any resources they find anywhere they go. We won’t be done dealing with them until we’re dead, or they are.”
Jillian emphasized her final point by swinging her right arm wildly at the camp they just departed.
“How do you propose we deal with them?” Luke asked.
“We poison the well,” Jillian answered, drawing some confused looks. “The remaining items in the general store are things we aren’t dying to take with us. We tamper with the food and any bottled items, and let them come and get it.”
“That’s dark,” Sutton admitted.
“It’s necessary,” Jillian said emphatically. “These people aren’t going away, and they’re dangerous as hell.”
Sutton tapped his chin momentarily.
“Okay,” he agreed. “But we need to come up with a plan, and all of us need to be on board.”
Jillian wondered if his words were an attempt to make up for his past discretions, but she needed someone on her side, regardless of who stepped forward.
As though on cue, Driscoll pulled up beside the group and stepped from the car he’d used. Standing silently momentarily, he waited for someone to say something because he knew within a matter of minutes, he’d missed quite a bit of backstory.
Within a few minutes the group caught him up on their ordeal, and he appeared to take their side without even meeting the cause of their latest problem. In the meantime, he’d driven them to the car where Sutton kept Buster safe, and the canine appeared thrilled to experience open air momentarily before immediately being confined in another vehicle with barely enough room for humans, much less him.
“Sounds like we need to get every gun we have,” Driscoll said. “Can I offer you fine folks a ride?”
His statement broke the tension, drawing grins and smirks as the group piled into the car, despite the crowded conditions.
Once they reached what would be considered the highway portion of the road that connected much of the town, Driscoll stopped as though waiting to see if traffic approached in either direction.
“What are you waiting for?” Sutton asked. “I think we have the right of way these days.”
“Look at that,” Driscoll said, staring to the left.
“Look at what?” Jillian asked before a dust cloud grew in the distance, as though they were parked in the desert and strong winds swirled dirt and blasted it their way.
Jillian immediately knew what it meant, and for a moment, she and her group shared uncertainty of what action to take next.
Forced to be spectators, because there wasn’t really anywhere to go, the group watched as two large trucks pulling painted trailers behind them rolled past, and the people inside the vehicles looked much like Dark Lady and her other three followers. Both vehicles barreled through without incident, though Jillian suspected her group was carefully observed by the newcomers.
“The circus has come to town,” she muttered once both vehicles turned, heading toward the still present plume of smoke in the distance.
Her chances of recovering Vazquez and giving him a proper burial with so many enemies encamped in her old town felt minimal. Squeezed between Gracine and Luke in the backseat, with Samantha seated atop Luke’s lap, she began to lose hope of battling the trespassers and chasing them to the next town.
“What the hell do we do about that?” Driscoll inquired, his voice cracking a bit from the intimidation they all felt.
“I’ve still got a sniper rifle,” Sutton said. “And she has a damn good scope.”
“We need to get our asses back to the house and get our shit together,” Gracine said. “These freaks aren’t going to sit around after the show Jillian just gave them. You and that woman got beef, girlfriend.”
“I know,” Jillian said. “And that’s why I can’t let this go.”
“They now double us in number,” Sutton noted.
“I know, but they aren’t armed like us,” Jillian replied, “and they aren’t as smart as us. I can get us around the town so they’ll have no idea we’re still here.”
“You seriously want to go to war with these nuts?” Luke asked incredulously. “I can’t let you throw a little girl in the middle of this vendetta.”
Driscoll started driving toward the house where most of the group stayed. One glance around indicated to Jillian that they weren’t being observed or followed by Dark Lady and her adopted children.
“They’re a threat,” Sutton said firmly, but in a tone that didn’t indicate he’d picked a side in this debate.
“We can’t go charging into that camp of theirs,” Gracine said. “They’re going to fortify that place and lock it down.”
“There’s no need,” Jillian said, still confident they could deal with their adversaries in more covert ways.
A few minutes later, the group arrived at the house, finding the setting a bit different as the front door remained wide open, and several items were strewn across the yard.
“What the hell?” Luke stammered, stepping from the car as he surveyed the damage.
“They were here,” Jillian answered slowly. “They must be using some kind of short-range radios.”
Gracine gave her a look that registered somewhere between desperation and anger.
“What?” Jillian asked.
“The guns.”
Everyone dashed inside, finding the house decimated with their clothes lying across the floor, and atop furniture, and virtually anything of value missing.
“Fuck,” Gracine muttered. “They got almost everything.”
“There wasn’t time to grab everything,” Jillian said, upending some furniture, finding a few smaller pistols and handheld weapons still in their hiding places. “They made a quick sweep while we were distracted.”
Sutton stepped inside, surv
eying the chaos within the house. Buster walked in behind him, taking his master’s side, but his tail remained down because he sensed the human tension.
“We have a stockpile where we were staying,” Sutton said. “We need to get over there and decide what our next step will be.”
Before anyone could utter another word, the sound of a large truck roaring from down the road reached their ears, and everyone knew their situation was about to get much worse.
Virtually defenseless, and being pursued by their adversaries, the group scrambled outdoors to find their worst fears realized.
“Get in the car,” Sutton said with an eerie calm. “We’re getting the guns and dealing with these fucks.”
“I’m scared!” Samantha shouted, looking to Luke for guidance and protection.
Luke looked helplessly to the group for reassurance or ideas. Jillian knew she couldn’t place the child in danger, and she didn’t want Sutton to bark something that put them in further peril.
“Go and hide,” she instructed Luke. “Both of you. And don’t come out until this is finished and we come find you.”
“What if it doesn’t go well?” Luke asked with a tone that indicated guilt because he didn’t want the others getting hurt due to him.
“Then you get out of here and make your own way.”
Luke nodded his thanks, took Samantha by the hand, and headed into the house to grab a few items, or stay out of sight.
“We need to move,” Jillian said, looking to Sutton, who nodded affirmatively, giving a slight indication of happiness they were on the same side again.
Driscoll jumped into the driver’s seat while everyone else, including Buster, occupied the remaining spaces within. Driscoll wasted no time getting the car out of the neighborhood and up to speed on the main road where the larger vehicle bore down on them with intent to maim.
“Well, this is going to suck,” he commented, making a sharp left turn ahead of the vehicle, and another tight turn to the right, sending the larger custom painted vehicle flying past them on the highway.
“This isn’t the best way,” Jillian commented, forgetting that everyone else had spent a week or more in her town, which provided plenty of time to memorize the layout of the streets and explore South Hill.
“It is if we want to lose them,” Driscoll responded, continuing to weave in and out of streets before the men in the pursuing truck ever caught sight of them.
“Just get us back to the house so we can grab those guns,” Sutton said, his voice lacking its self-assured confidence.
Jillian couldn’t believe how quickly tensions escalated between her group and the faction led by Dark Lady. One simple mistake, or lapse in judgment by Vazquez, allowed the carnival people, who went completely feral in the apocalypse, to swoop in and take over her hometown. Even worse, she felt stupid for not believing in her own people, allowing them to get captured, without ever sensing the true danger around her.
When Driscoll finally turned onto the correct street leading to where he and Sutton had stayed the past week, Sutton tensed, looking forward, muttering some words Jillian could barely understand.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where is it?”
“Where is what?” Gracine questioned, looking nervously between Sutton and the houses ahead of them.
“His box truck,” Jillian answered, not seeing the mammoth large object anywhere in the distance.
“Please tell me your guns weren’t in that truck,” Gracine said more than asked.
“No,” Sutton said blankly, as though shock were setting in, his despondence clearly evident.
By now the larger circus vehicle had located them, and made its presence felt as it turned behind them on their current street.
“You do have guns, right?” Gracine asked, turning to Driscoll.
“Well, fuck, I hope so, but if they got the truck, God only knows what else they got.”
Suddenly the four of them possessed a common goal of survival, despite past feuds, the color of their skin, or their individual and collective losses. Jillian worried about Sutton because the man appeared transfixed on the loss of his box truck, and not the immediate threat to their very lives.
“Colby, snap out of it,” Jillian said lightly tapping him on the face. “If they have your truck, we’re going to get it back.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” he asked, still not completely snapping out of his trance.
“We’ll kill every last one of them if we need to.”
“Girl, you got an unhealthy obsession with these freaks,” Gracine commented.
“You would, too, if you saw how they were before the world fell apart,” Jillian replied. “They were built for this, and believe me, it’s them or us. Or did you already forget they were going to make lawn ornaments out of the two of you?”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
Driscoll pulled into the driveway, finding the front doors of the two residences he and Sutton occupied wide-open.
“This doesn’t look good,” the man commented, parking in the lawn between the two houses so the group could split up and look for firearms inside either house.
Driscoll and Gracine immediately exited the vehicle, but Sutton remained seated, still blankly looking for his lost truck, which was long gone in Jillian’s estimation. Even Buster exited, taking Jillian’s side, figuring his owner would join him momentarily.
“There’s no way they could’ve gotten it that fast,” Sutton mumbled, his eyes in a trance as he looked at the vacated parking spot.
“Come on,” Jillian said, tugging at his arm.
She glanced up, finding the much larger circus vehicle barreling at them, and not slowing down. Continuing to pull on Sutton’s arm, Jillian knew she was either about to get Sutton to move, or they were both going to be roadkill. Personally, she didn’t want to give Dark Lady any free kills, because she wanted their group wiped off the face of the planet.
“Come on!” she yelled more emphatically, tugging at Sutton with all of her might, seeing the noisy truck drawing dangerously close.
Jillian knew Gracine and Driscoll would be on their own in another five seconds if she couldn’t get Sutton to budge, and by the time his eyes locked on to hers, Jillian wondered if he’d come to his senses too late.
Eighteen
An awkward moment passed as Metzger, Molly, and the stranger at the door all exchanged glances, and Molly held up the document to enforce their right to gain entry into the sanctuary. In reality, she bought them a few precious moments as indecision crossed the sentry’s mind of their legitimacy, because Fournier obviously hadn’t mentioned any other survivors from his party. They either died in the skirmish against Molly’s people, or he left them behind.
In a sudden move he tried to slam the door on them, but Metzger threw his right palm against the door before the latch caught, keeping precious inches between them and the answers they sought. By now the military men had reached their position, and everyone threw their combined weight into the door as much as a cluster of six people reasonably could at one time.
Metzger felt the brunt of the door against his chest and right cheek as he was slammed inward by the military men behind him, including his brother. He fell to the floor momentarily, watching feet run past him as Molly knelt by his side.
“You okay?” she asked, shaking her head as though she’d been a casualty of the door thrashing as well.
“I will be,” Metzger answered, scrambling to his feet, hearing noise in virtually every direction.
Patting himself down for injuries, and to ensure his weapons remained with him, Metzger heard the sounds of yelling and footsteps growing distant. He looked around, seeing a reasonably normal living room, kitchen, and small sleeping area off to one side, but the noise came from farther down the hall.
Much farther.
“What the
hell?” he questioned, tapping Molly on the arm before heading in the direction of the noise.
They quickly left the light and safety of the main living area to a darkened hallway until Metzger ran into a wall.
“Where are they?” he questioned, reaching his arms out in each direction, feeling nothing except a wall on either side.
Stuffing his hand into his right pocket, Metzger produced the miniature flashlight he often carried, turning it on to find two doors on either side of the hallway. He shined the light inside the first one on the right, finding a bedroom with a square about two feet by two feet cut in the center of the room.
“What the fuck is that?” he questioned aloud.
“They built some kind of bugout tunnel,” Molly answered. “Let’s check the other rooms.”
Metzger went with her to each of the rooms, shining the light, and finding similar squares cut into the floors, but in various locations. By no means concealed, they were meant for a very quick escape if danger burst through the front door.
“Which one?” he questioned aloud, wondering which of the squares the greeted jumped down, and if their actual target had taken another.
“They went to that side,” Molly pointed across the hall. “Maybe the tunnels on this side meet up somewhere.”
“Better to cover our bases,” Metzger said, shining the light into the closest hatch, finding a ladder that led directly into the ground.
He scurried down, with Molly behind him, realizing immediately that such a network of vast tunnels wasn’t created in a month’s time. One aim of his light down the hallway revealed that the tunnel before them went on as far as the beam reached.
“Let’s go,” he said, realizing the echoes of voices and footsteps ceased the moment they went underground.
Instinctively taking Molly by the hand, because he held the light, he started down the hall, which proved just wide enough to allow a single person passage at one time. Like a mine shaft, it possessed wooden beams for support in regular intervals, but the job hardly looked professional to Metzger. At the end of the tunnel, he was presented with a right turn, which he took, realizing the tunnel didn’t necessarily meet up with any other passages.
The Undead Chronicles (Vol. 2): Darker Days Page 23
