by E. E. Borton
Doug and Daniel had driven through the area many times going somewhere else in the park, but never had a reason to stop. There were no gas stations or convenience stores in the community. The closest restaurant was a six-mile drive. The brother’s mentioned a church, a wedding venue, and a firing range as the only other buildings they knew about that weren’t residences.
It didn’t take us long to come up on the first house. All of the windows were broken, and the front door had been taken off its hinges. We took a few moments to watch for any movement before we made our way around to the other side. Other than ours, there were no other footprints in the snow.
“You wanna go in?” whispered JD, looking through his scope.
“No,” I said. “This one looks abandoned, and we don’t have time to clear every house we come across. Castle’s with at least sixteen other men. That’s a big group that he won’t be able to hide. Let’s keep going.”
With cautious and deliberate steps, it took us thirty minutes to creep a hundred yards. A short distance ahead of us, we saw a clearing. As we moved in closer, we could see the clearing was occupied by a cluster of homes, barns, and sheds. We had made it to the outskirts of the community.
The house closest to us was large, intact, and well maintained. The windows on the first floor were boarded, but all the panes on the second were glass. We couldn’t see inside the first floor, but the second was void of any movement. JD pointed to four sets of footprints leading away from the front of the wraparound porch.
As we peered through our scopes, a dark shadow overtook the clearing as if a giant had walked up behind us. We both looked over our shoulders at where the sun was supposed to be. Above our heads, half of the sky was a brilliant blue. The other half was a black, boiling mass of something I had never seen before. Whatever it was, it was angry.
There were no volcanoes anywhere near us, but I couldn’t argue if someone told me that we were witnessing an eruption. It was moving fast, but the air around us was still and quiet. I knew that would be changing soon. We had no idea what it was, but neither one of us wanted to be under it.
“This is gettin’ ridiculous,” said JD. “It looks like smoke, but I know it ain’t.”
“I have no idea what it is,” I said. “But we need to get a roof over our heads before we find out.”
“Yes, sir, we do,” said JD, turning his attention back to the house closest to us. “That looks as good as any.”
“There’s no doubt that house is occupied, JD. Those prints lead away, but that doesn’t mean it’s empty.”
“Not much of a choice, Henry. That thing will be on top of us before we make it back. You know that.”
I did know that. Luck was with us when we found shelter just outside of town. It was never with us for long. Clearing a house meant something different. I wasn’t ready to hear more gunshots behind closed doors. Whatever it was growing in the sky above our heads, it didn’t care if I was ready or not.
My decision was made easier when the sky started cracking. It sounded as if a frozen lake was breaking apart. It was eerie and mesmerizing.
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “We’ll go in through that side door.”
“I got point,” said JD, raising his rifle as he stood.
I covered him until he made it to the door. He turned and then covered me as I moved across the yard. Before I could remove the crowbar from his backpack, he turned the knob and the door gave way. There was barely enough light to reveal the corners of the room as we rushed inside. Nothing was moving or pointing a gun at us.
“Let’s get –”
“No way,” said JD, sticking his nose in the air.
“What?”
“Cake,” said JD, smiling. “I smell cake.”
“You’re killing me right now.”
“I know we don’t take from folks,” said JD, moving down the hall, “but it’s cake, man.”
“Can we finish clearing the house first?”
“We’ll start in here.”
“The ninja has a weakness,” I said, following him.
“He does,” said JD, spotting it sitting on the counter. “And its coconut.”
“I take it that’s your favorite?”
“Yes, sir, it is,” said JD, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and removing the glass dome off the platter.
The home was immaculate, warm, and inviting. Other than the boards over the windows, this place was frozen in a better time. It was as if nothing had happened. Everything was in order and untouched by looters, thieves, or monsters. Well, not until we showed up.
“Oh my God, this is good,” said JD, closing his eyes as he chewed.
He heard them before I did. Before the cake hit the ground, he spun, drew his pistol, and aimed down the hall toward the front door. I did the same as it opened. They didn’t see us until it closed behind them. As the man at the door was unwrapping his scarf, our eyes locked. With his family in our gun sights, he reached behind him.
“Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “We’re not going to hurt you, but I need to see those hands.”
“Yours too, ma’am,” said JD.
I was relieved when they complied. I wasn’t as worried about the woman’s hands. They were clutching her children close to her side.
“Pull up that jacket and turn around slowly,” I said.
Again he complied. I walked up to him and removed the pistol from the holster in the small of his back. I removed the magazine and cleared the round from the chamber. I set the gun and ammo on the coffee table and then patted him down. Confident there were no other weapons, I told them all to sit on the couch.
“I meant what I said,” I told them, taking a seat across from the family. “We’re not going to hurt you. My name is Henry, and the man over there with frosting in his beard is JD. Apparently, he has a thing for cake.”
“I couldn’t help myself, ma’am,” said JD, lowering his gun. “I’ll never tell her, but that was better than my momma’s.”
I could sense the fear and tension in the father. He let his family down by letting monsters inside his home. I could also see the wheels turning in his head. He was looking around, trying to figure out what he could use to kill us.
In his mind, he made a mistake. I didn’t believe he would make another. If we did anything that threatened his wife and children, he would die protecting them.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Tom.”
“I know this is your worst nightmare, Tom, because it’s mine. I don’t want you to worry about your family. I promise you that they’re safe, and they’ll stay that way. We’re not here to hurt you or steal. Well, except that piece of cake.”
“I really am sorry about that,” said JD.
“It’s okay,” said the woman though tears. “I’m glad you liked it. My name is Angie, and this is Tom Junior, but we call him Bear. This is Ashley. She helped me make the cake.”
“You don’t say,” said JD, beaming with a smile. “You are one fine baker, Ashley. Truly. How old are you?”
“Thank you,” said Ashley, looking up at her mom for permission to answer. “I’m six.”
Tom was shifting in his seat. He wasn’t buying the nice guy routine. His eyes were still darting around the room. When he realized his best option for killing us was on the coffee table in front of him, he stared at it.
“We’re not taking that from you either,” I said. “You can pick it up.”
He lifted his eyes to mine. The wheels stopped turning, but he didn’t reach for it. I was glad he was confused.
“Load it, but don’t chamber a round, please,” I said. “I think everyone would be more comfortable if you just put it back in your holster.”
“Are you serious?” asked Tom.
“I am,” I said. “I want you to believe me that you and your family are safe. It would make me feel more comfortable as well. Please.”
“I believe them,” said Angie. “It’s okay, swe
etheart.”
He moved with caution as he picked up the pistol and magazine. He left the bullet on the table and kept his eyes on me as he slid the magazine into the handle. He took a deep breath and then exhaled as he returned it to the holster. He was starting to believe us as well.
“Where are you from?” asked Tom, wiping away a tear.
He wasn’t crying from fear. Every muscle in his body was releasing tension at the same time, as if he were a coiled spring allowed to relax. Looking over at JD with all his gear, weapons, and ghostly camouflage, I could understand how our appearance would scare the hell out of anyone.
“We’re from Stevenson, Alabama,” I said. “JD was born there, and I’ve just recently called it home. I have family there, but I came up from Atlanta when all this mess started.”
“I know Stevenson,” said Tom. “Did a little business there a few years ago. Nice place.”
“Still is for now,” said JD. “Looks like you folks have kept this place nice as well.”
“We’ve had our share of problems,” said Angie, “but the people here stick together. We’re a small community, but everybody loves living here.”
“Problems that look like us?” I asked.
“No,” said Angie. “You two don’t look like anything we’ve come across. You look more serious. Most of the others are either trying to get away from something or find it. They tend to be a little more ragged.”
“And they’re more desperate,” said Tom. “I believe anyone else standing in my kitchen when we walked in would’ve just pulled the trigger. If you don’t mind me asking, why were you in my kitchen?”
“Seems another storm is brewing,” I said. “We were only looking for shelter. We almost got caught outside during the last one. There’s no doubt in my mind it would’ve killed us.”
“We’re trying to avoid that,” said JD. “And avoid causin’ any problems for folks like you. Just say the word and we’ll press on. We know of an abandoned place outside of town. If we need to go, we need to get movin’ pretty quick before this thing gets worse.”
I wasn’t thrilled with JD’s willingness to press on, but I understood the reason. He wanted them to believe it was their choice whether we stayed or left. Either way, it might put their minds a little more at ease with our presence.
The storm helped with the process. As we sat in an awkward moment of silence, the house was rocked with the same eerie cracking as we heard outside. It was more intense and less mesmerizing.
“If you could do me one favor, I don’t see a problem with you staying until this passes,” said Tom, taking his wife’s hand.
“Anything you want,” I said.
“Clear those rifles and set them to the side,” said Tom. “The kids know about guns and they won’t go near them. Those pistols in your holsters are fine where they are.”
“No problem,” said JD, honoring his request, and I did the same.
“No telling what’s coming at us with that storm,” said Tom. “I could use your help sealing everything up as best we can and get that fire blazing again.”
“Lead the way,” said JD.
“Time for you to pay for that cake,” I said, grinning.
Chapter 45
Trojan Bear
“You kids know what to do,” said Tom, standing. “Just like the last storm. Take your sister upstairs, Bear. Help her get ready.”
“Yes, sir,” said Bear, cutting his eyes at me, but obeying his father.
“I like to keep them busy when the weather turns bad,” said Tom. “They have little jobs to do, like moving things away from the windows. The living room will be filled with Ashley’s stuffed animals soon. She doesn’t want them being alone or getting wet if the windows break.”
“I understand,” I said, smiling. “Hopefully this one won’t be as bad as the last. Would you like me to get this fire going again?”
“Yes, thank you,” said Tom. “There’s a stack of wood in the den I just moved out of here yesterday. Guess I should’ve left it where it was.”
“No problem,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll help you,” said Angie. “It’s a big stack.”
JD followed Tom out of the room. They were going to gather towels, blankets, and anything else we could stuff into the cracks to keep the cold out. Angie showed me into the den and started stacking wood in my arms. It took several trips before I dropped the last log beside the mantel.
“I know why you were in our kitchen,” said Angie, “but why are you so far from home?”
“We heard about a militia based near Signal Mountain,” I said, placing a few logs onto the hot coals. “Things are getting worse back home. There aren’t enough of us to keep all the trouble out. We need to find a little help.”
“What kind of trouble is that?” asked Angie, handing me a poker.
“Thank you,” I said, stoking the fire. “We call them refugees, but it can be any group of people that have been displaced or looking to rob us. We do our best to reach out to them and tell them to move along, but they’re getting more desperate. Sometimes they attack us. We hate to turn anyone away, but we just don’t have enough for everybody. We barely have enough to take care of ourselves.”
“I understand,” said Angie, giving me a warm smile. “You have to take care of your families first.”
“It’s getting harder to do,” I said, sitting back and letting the fire grow.
“Do you have any children?” asked Angie.
“No,” I said. “I’ve never been married or had kids, but there is someone waiting for me to come home.”
“A sweetheart,” said Angie, widening her smile.
“She is,” I said. “JD isn’t married either, but he has a big family in Stevenson. When he said that cake was better than his mom’s, that’s saying something. Good Lord, that woman can cook.”
“Didn’t you say you had family?” asked Angie.
“I do,” I said, lowering my head. “But I recently lost my uncle. He was killed in the last attack by refugees. He was my father’s brother. He was married with three grown children. A son and daughter in Stevenson and another son who lived up north. We won’t be able to repel another group that size. It’s why JD and I are looking for the militia.”
“I’m sorry about your uncle,” said Angie. “It seems everybody has lost someone close to them since all this started. We’ve been fortunate with our family so far, but it hasn’t been easy.”
“This militia,” I said, “they’ve been helping you?”
“A little, but not in the beginning,” said Angie. “We’re isolated up here, but a lot of people were coming down from Nashville and up from Chattanooga. There’s basically only one road in or out on this side of the mountain, and it runs through here.
“We tried to help as many as we could like your town did, but just like yours, it didn’t take long for us to start running low on everything. As time went on, people would just start shooting instead of asking for help. We lost a lot of good friends.
“A few months ago it got really bad. A large group from Nashville took over the north side of town. They were pushing us back one house at a time. It was awful. We’d hear gunshots and screaming all night. Tom was out there fighting, and I didn’t know when or if he was coming back.”
“But he did make it back,” I said. “I assume the militia showed up?”
“Yes,” said Angie. “They killed them all. I don’t know which was worse. Worrying every day about Tom coming home, or knowing all those people died a horrible death.”
“I guess everyone around here is grateful for the militia,” I said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Angie, turning cold. “Their protection comes with a price.”
“What do you mean?”
“They take what they want,” said Angie. “And there’s nothing anyone can do to stop them. They take whoever they want as well.”
“Whoever they want?” I asked, trying to figure out
where her loyalties lay.
“I’ve heard stories about what they do to women,” said Angie. “They take them for payment as well. A few of them go to our church. I can tell by the look in their eyes something has happened to them, but they’re too afraid to speak up.”
“Have they ever –”
“No,” said Angie, looking down. “They haven’t done anything to me. Tom would kill them if they tried. When you talk to him, I prefer that you don’t bring that up. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“I won’t,” I said.
“Thank you,” said Angie, looking up at me with a smile.
I could hear JD and Tom in the kitchen. The boards that covered the windows on the first floor were mounted so they could easily be removed. They were more for storm protection than repelling intruders. I was put more at ease when I heard them laughing.
“That should do it,” said Tom, returning to the living room. “This is a solid, well-insulated house. It stayed warm inside during the last storm, so I’m hoping for the same with this one.”
“Yeah,” said JD, joining us. “It doesn’t seem to be as windy outside. That’s what made the other one so bad. We were all huddled up around a big fire, and we were still freezing our tails off. It’s snowing pretty hard out there, but I think we’re going to be okay.”
“I was just talking to Angie about the militia,” I said, bringing JD up to speed. “Seems they’ve done some good things for this town.”
“All right then,” said JD. “Maybe they can do the same for us.”
“Is that why you’re here?” asked Tom, taking a seat on the couch next to his wife. “To reach out to them?”
“It is,” I said.
I wanted to repeat as much of the conversation I had with Angie as possible. I needed JD to understand that we were still in enemy territory until we were convinced otherwise. Letting the cat out of the bag too soon about our intentions would make an already tough job nearly impossible. On the flip side, if they weren’t fans of the militia, it could make a tough job much easier.
“Be careful with what you’re asking of them,” said Tom. “They just may give it to you.”
