by E. E. Borton
“I guess,” I said. “Things got a little weird.”
“How so?” asked JD.
“Conner tried to persuade us to stick around and help them take out some more trash, but I declined. Then Captain Turner wanted to fight me on the spot. Amanda cooled everything down while Jackson and Boyd stood their ground beside me. After that, Conner invites us all in for a hot meal, with safe passage over the bridge when we’re done.”
“Yeah,” said JD, “we saw Amanda step between you guys when you got in his face. You took away our shot, by the way.”
“Sorry, buddy,” I said. “I don’t know what it is, but that guy doesn’t like me at all.”
“So what’s the plan now?” asked Doug. “Do we still need to watch our backs?”
“I think we’re good until we cross,” I said. “You and Daniel will go first. Then I’ll cross with JD and Tucker behind me. Turner walked off like a scolded child. I don’t want us bunched up on the bridge if he tries to pull anything. Once we’re clear on the other side, it’s business as usual.”
“Let’s not hang around here too long,” said Doug.
“I agree,” I said. “We’ll eat, resupply, and then hit the road.”
As we walked into the building, we were hit with a blast of warm air and turning heads. There were wood-burning stoves on full blast in each corner of the large space used for gatherings. People were preparing food while others were tending to the women we liberated the night before. Warm washcloths were wrapped around chilled feet. Soiled clothes were replaced with clean blankets warmed by the stoves. Hands were being held and heads were leaning on comforting shoulders. Their ordeal was over, but their pain would continue long after the shivering stopped.
Their experience wasn’t unique. It wasn’t something that only happened to a few women after we lost power. It was something that happened more times than we cared to think about.
Animals didn’t worry about going to jail after raping a woman or kidnapping them to use as currency. We didn’t worry about going to jail either. All we cared about was using as much violence as possible when removing them from the planet.
None of that mattered to the women in the room. Whatever punishment we delivered, it came too late. Nothing we did would alter the fact that their lives had been changed forever.
When the others in the room realized we were the strangers that freed their mothers and daughters, smiles replaced the suspicious stares. Handshakes and hugs followed with offers of food and seats closer to the stoves. Steve repaid his debt by stuffing our packs with more food and supplies.
On one of the tables he made a pile of coats, gloves, hats, scarfs, and even ski goggles that we could take if needed. They were all things he said they could spare, but we knew otherwise. (We couldn’t pass on the goggles, warmer gloves, and anything made with white material, but we left everything else on the table.)
“Major Conner isn’t the only one that wants you boys to stick around,” said Amanda, taking a seat next to us. “You guys have become instant legends around here.”
“We’re a lot of things,” said Doug. “Legendary isn’t one of them.”
“We just got the drop on ‘em and got a little lucky,” said JD. “Nothing special about that.”
“Whatever it is,” said Amanda, “we feel safer with you here. I’m sure the people where you’re from are missing you.”
“Not as much as we’re missing them,” said Doug. “It’s been a helluva week. I’m looking forward to getting home to my family and staying there for a while.”
“Where is home?” asked Amanda, looking over at me. “I think by now you realize you can trust me. I’d just like to know.”
“Stevenson,” I said.
“I’ve been there,” said Amanda. “It’s a beautiful town.”
“It’s been getting harder to keep it that way,” said Doug.
“When you finish taking care of your business up north,” said Amanda, winking at us, “I’m sure it will be just as beautiful as you left it. But don’t leave here without telling me goodbye.”
“We won’t,” I said.
“They don’t come much tougher than that,” said Doug after she left. “I can’t imagine the hell that woman’s been through, but she’s already trying to put it behind her.”
“Helping the others when she needed help too,” said JD. “Yes, sir. Tough as nails, that one.”
“There’s a pull with these folks to stick around,” said Tucker. “It’s kinda hard thinking about leaving them. You know Conner and his crew won’t mess with them while we’re here.”
“That’s why Captain Turner has a thing for you and us,” said Doug. “They were running the show until we showed up. They were the big fish in a small pond.”
“All the more reason to take out the biggest fish,” I said. “Looks like others are going to benefit from our long, cold walk to Signal Mountain. We need to suck it up and move fast to make sure we cut them off before he makes it home. I know you’re all tired and haven’t had more than a few hours of sleep in two days, but we have to push harder now.”
“Great speech, boss,” said JD.
After a few chuckles from the weary group, we ate our fill and prepared our gear for another trek through the snow. JD impressed the local elders with his sewing skills as he prepared our whitewashed camouflage. We accepted a few more rounds of ammunition from Steve, and our eyes grew wide as he handed us gifts. In our book, they cleared any debt he thought he had with us. It was a bag full of air-activated hand warmers. (I won’t swear to it in court, but I think JD started crying.)
We didn’t want to interrupt the reunions and medical attention being given to those in need, but when we donned our final layer and tightened the straps on our packs, they knew we were leaving. One by one each of the women we returned home thanked us and wished us luck on our journey. As promised, we sought out Amanda.
“You’re all good men,” said Amanda, hugging each of us. “Thank you seems inadequate.”
“It isn’t inadequate, and you’re very welcome,” said Doug. “We’re just glad things turned out the way they did.”
“Take care of each other,” said Amanda. “Don’t do anything stupid, and get home safe to your families.”
“Is there a reason why you’re looking at me?” I asked, smiling.
“A feeling.”
“We all have it too, sister,” said JD, slapping me on the back.
“I wish I could tell the people in your town what you did here,” said Amanda. “They’d be very proud of you.”
“You’ll see us again, Amanda,” said Doug. “I promise you that.”
I’m not a fan of making promises I can’t keep. I’m less of a fan when others include me in theirs. There was no guarantee we’d make it across the bridge, let alone make it to Signal Mountain and back home. In spite of those feelings, I was proud of Doug for what he said to Amanda. I was proud of all of them.
I agreed with Tucker. It was hard thinking about leaving them. I was confident Amanda could take care of herself, and Jackson would be a warrior protecting them. She asked me not to do anything stupid. Unlike Doug, I didn’t make any promises.
We had walked into a warm blast of air. It was a different story walking out. It felt like the temperature had dropped several degrees since we arrived. Our boots crunched through the thickening layer of ice forming over the snow as we made our way to the onramp of the bridge. Major Conner stayed with me as Doug and Daniel started to cross.
“Give General Castle my best,” said Conner. “He may not be there when you arrive. He’s been tending to business west of here in a few small towns in Alabama. Bridgeport and Stevenson, I think. Do you know those places?”
“I’ve heard of them,” I said, trying not to say – or do – anything stupid.
“Rumor is they have a train,” said Conner. “If that’s true, Castle will be able to move troops and supplies wherever he sees fit. I’m sure that’ll include your town. What’s
the name of it again? I can’t remember.”
“LaFayette,” I said, watching Doug and Daniel move closer to the other side of the river.
“That’s right,” said Conner. “I guess that means you’ll be coming back this way.”
“It does,” I said, turning to face him.
“I hope everyone is still here when you do,” said Conner. “My men and I will be.”
“That’s good to know,” I said, trying harder.
“Rules of passage will still apply,” said Conner. “You and your men will have to pay another toll to cross back over.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I said. “But if everyone isn’t here when we return, you’ll be getting a little bit more from us than a toll.”
“Travel safe,” said Conner, smirking and then handing me an envelope. “Show this to anyone on the other side who challenges you until you reach the outer barricades. After that, you’ll be on your own. The road between the first Signal Mountain checkpoint and North Chattanooga is unsecured. That’s dangerous territory even for us.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I said, turning and stepping onto the bridge.
It was a half-mile walk from onramp to off-ramp. They had removed all the dead vehicles from the bridge to remove any safe cover for invaders. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so exposed. If Turner did have it out for me, this would be the perfect time for him to put a bullet in my back.
Doug and Daniel had already made it to the other side. They took positions behind a guardrail and had their eyes on their scopes. It put me more at ease, but I wanted to get off that bridge as soon as possible. My legs wanted to run, but my gut was at ease. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks when I knelt beside Daniel behind the rail.
“Top of the hotel on the right side of the bridge,” said Daniel, holding his sights. “Two shooters using binoculars. Rifles on their backs.”
“Is it my new buddy?” I asked, adjusting my optics.
“No,” said Daniel. “Two new guys.”
“They’re almost a thousand yards out from us,” I said. “That would be a tough shot even for JD.”
“I think they’re just letting us know they’re watching us,” said Daniel. “I doubt they’re a threat.”
“Not to us,” I said.
As JD and Tucker walked closer, I swung my rifle around to see what was in front of us. It was as if we were transported to a different world. There were no burned out cars and most of the buildings were intact and in good shape. In spite of what I thought about Conner and Turner, they were doing their job well.
Chapter 37
Frozen
When we were all back together on the other side of the bridge, we took a moment to scan the area for any movement or faces. There were neither. At that point, I assumed the freezing weather had forced everyone to stay indoors. Once again, it felt like we were the last people alive on earth. I wondered how close to reality that feeling was.
A few months after the event, most people stopped asking why we lost the ability to produce electricity. When it became clear the lights weren’t coming back on, our attention was needed elsewhere. Hunting and growing food, making clean water, finding sturdy shelter, and killing each other became full-time jobs for most.
I imagined there were groups of scientists and electrical engineers working around the wind-up clock somewhere out there. Wherever they were, they weren’t in Stevenson, and we didn’t come across any labs in Chattanooga either. The problem we needed to solve was still eight miles away.
“So much for troops on this side of the river,” said Daniel, scanning buildings to our right.
“Most of the subdivisions and houses are east of here,” said Doug. “That’s probably where the militia is stationed. We’ll be heading west. There isn’t much worth protecting between here and Signal Mountain.”
“Are we sticking to the roads?” asked JD.
“As far as we can,” I said. “We’ll have better footing and can cover more ground. I don’t like it either, but we don’t have much of a choice. Stay sharp, and if we see any signs of trouble, we’ll figure out a different approach.”
“Our exit is two miles up the highway,” said Doug, looking at his hand-drawn map. “After that, six miles to where we should intercept Castle. There’s no other road he can take to get home.”
“What if they ditched the supply wagons?” asked Tucker. “Then they could’ve taken a shorter route through the state park.”
“He won’t ditch them,” I said. “I wouldn’t.”
“By now he knows he isn’t being followed,” said Doug. “When he had an army, those wagons were full of food and valuable supplies that he won’t leave behind.”
“If anything, they’re still looking over their shoulders for us,” I said. “The last place they think we’ll be is in front of them. No, he’s on that road.”
I switched up our formation and put JD and Tucker on point fifty yards ahead of us on either side of the highway. Doug, Daniel, and I put a little distance between us, but we were close enough to concentrate our firepower if needed. With over a foot of snow on the ground and our focus on avoiding trouble, a short two-mile hike could cost us an hour. We didn’t have many of those to spare. Based on our calculations, Castle and his men would be in our kill zone by sunset.
Twenty minutes into our hike, JD took a knee behind a truck and waited for us to catch up. Two hundred yards ahead of us, a group of militia troops were manning a barricade. This time we were on the same side as them. I hoped they would realize that sooner than later.
Using vehicles as cover, we moved in closer. We then reached the point where I had to leave them behind to cover me. One man walking up the highway would be less intimidating than five. After handing my rifle to Doug and removing my camouflage, I stepped out into the open. With dark clothing against a white background, I didn’t have to walk far before I got their attention.
“That’s close enough,” said a rifle. “Who are you and what’s your business?”
“My name is Henry. I have a message from Major Conner.”
Another rifle came out from behind me, took the letter from my raised hands, and read it. I smiled and nodded at the other men gathering around me. Nobody smiled back.
“I’m Lieutenant Jarvis. Where are the others?”
“Waiting to see if that letter works,” I said.
“It works,” said Jarvis. “You can put your hands down.”
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the letter back from him.
“I can’t remember the last time we saw anyone leave,” said Jarvis. “Must be important business.”
“It is,” I said. “Any idea what it’s like out there?”
“Quiet since the storm,” said Jarvis. “We had a group try to bust through two days ago.”
“How often does that happen?” I asked, watching my guys making their way to me.
“Not much these days and the groups are getting smaller. I guess most people are trying to settle where they are. It’s too risky being on the road.”
“Still plenty of action on the other side of the river,” I said.
“Yeah, they’ve got their hands full over there. We rotate posts every so often. Nobody likes working on the other side of those bridges.”
“We understand that,” I said, taking my gear from Doug.
“You guys want a cup of coffee before heading out?” asked Jarvis. “May be a while before you have another.”
“I appreciate that, Lieutenant,” I said, “but we need to get moving.”
“Remember these faces,” said Jarvis, addressing his men. “They’ll be coming back through here soon. They’re friends of Major Conner. Treat them accordingly.”
After handshakes, we were on our way. Fifty feet on the other side of the barricade, we came across a body partially buried in the snow. There were several more mounds as we made our way through the militia kill zone. It must have been the group that recently tried to overrun the bar
ricade. I wondered if what they were running from was any worse than what they ran into.
We arrived at the exit of the highway without seeing another soul. I felt more comfortable walking down a narrow road with fewer tall buildings around us. We were no longer easy targets for long-range rifles.
When we passed by a small industrial area, the only things flanking the road were trees. Three hours after we crossed the river, we found ourselves reunited with it. Route 27 hugged the river for over two miles before cutting back through a valley. It’s where we would find a position overlooking the road for the ambush. We were making decent time until a light breeze turned into a howling wind.
We heard it coming before we felt it. The leading edge of the wind front was bending trees in front of us. When it hit us, we had to lean forward to avoid being knocked to the ground. It was like getting slapped in the face with a frozen glove. As we pressed forward against it, I put on my new goggles before my eyes froze open.
It was difficult keeping our heads up to scan for signs of trouble. It showed up in the form of boiling green and dark gray clouds spilling over the mountains. When skies changed that fast, something powerful was fueling it. It was early fall in a southern state, but I had never felt air so cold. I knew it would be getting colder.
“What is that?” asked Doug, watching the dark wall in the sky approach us.
“I have no idea,” I said, motioning for JD and Tucker to come back to us. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It looks like a tidal wave,” said Daniel.
“I don’t know what the fuck that is,” said JD, “but it looks like it wants to kill us.”
“I saw a rooftop up ahead,” said Tucker. “We need to get under it.”
“I hope nobody’s home,” I said.
“If they are, they’re about to have company,” said JD. “The last empty house was a quarter mile back. We won’t make it there before this thing overtakes us.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go knock on a door.”
It was a large home in good condition that overlooked the river. It had a sizeable chimney and all the windows on the front side were intact. We all noticed that the front door had been replaced.
