Another figure stepped out. It was the devilishly handsome man she’d seen at the bar. His jet-black hair swooped. His sideburns were long and defined. He wore a wicked smile.
“Count me in,” he said, bringing along a heavy wrench resting on one shoulder.
Naomi took the assault weapon out of the backseat to make room.
A third figure appeared at the fringes of the crowd. He had a spider web neck tattoo and bug eyes. He was the man from the hospital. He started toward the Rover without a word.
Brian stepped out ahead of the rest of the people. “If you leave with her, don’t bother coming back!”
Without hesitation, Ms. Banks slipped into the back seat. The man with the spider web tattoo slowed down, but only for a second before climbing into the Rover and sitting on one of the bench seats. The handsome man was the only one to fully turn back. A number of women called him back. He gave them a minor bow before entering the vehicle.
He scooted in next to Ms. Banks. “Good to see you, Pastor.”
The woman surprised him with a smile. “Welcome back, Richard.”
The tattooed man in the far back stayed in the shadows. “You plan to kill Logan, right?”
“It’s a possibility,” Calvin replied.
“Good,” the man mumbled to himself.
Naomi kept looking out the window. “Anyone else?”
The crowd was quiet.
“I wish you all the best,” Naomi said and slipped back into the vehicle. She turned to the others. “Ready?”
They nodded.
“Seatbelts,” Naomi said as she buckled up.
Ms. Banks had already done so.
Richard seemed reluctant.
The final man seemed too lost in his thoughts to care.
Calvin put the car into Drive and proceeded forward. The old engine chugged on.
The crowd grew farther away and the night turned inky black.
Soon, Eagleton was in the past.
With three eager strangers, the Baxters drove into the night.
8
Route 29
In the darkness of night, the 1983 Land Rover shined its dim headlights across the deserted house. Broken chunks of wood and cans of depleted tear gas littered the hallway. Wood planks boarded the windows from the inside.
Guy, the gaunt man with the spider web tattoo, scanned the property with his bug-like eyes. “This place is dead.”
Naomi drew stale air through her nose and opened her truck door. “Come on.”
As a unit, the five of them exited the vehicle. Walking with their backs to the headlights, long humanoid shadows stretched across the damaged walls of Allen’s home.
Holding up her hand-cranked lantern, Naomi stepped over the felled front door and into the hallway. Blood stained the hardwood next to the basement’s entrance. Naomi and the others peered down the rickety steps.
Feeling the weight of the heavy rifle on her back, Naomi descended into the abyss.
The plank stairs groaned with every step.
Her boot touched down the solid concrete floor. Naomi swept the lantern light across a dozen empty shelves. Like felled dominos, they tipped against each other. All that remained of Allen’s supplies were a few broken mason jars that spilled black jam across the floor.
Naomi approached the shelf blocking the secret escape door. A cadaver sat against it with his chin down. Frost lingered in the greying beard. Dark purple blotches spotted his milky skin. Mashed bullets jammed in the Kevlar beneath his tattered camo jacket. Frozen crimson hardened beneath a hole on the man’s forehead.
Slowly, Naomi set down the lantern and took a knee before the fallen soldier. His sorrowful, half-open eyes were downcast. Naomi reached out her pale, bony fingers to the man’s cheek. She stopped herself an inch away, knowing that looking at his eyes would change nothing. She drew her hand back to her chest, keeping it from shaking with her spare hand. With hollow eyes, she turned around to her companions.
Her head slightly down, Ms. Banks had her fingers interlocked in front of her as if she were the Virgin Mary in prayer. Calvin Baxter’s hand was paused on the way up his scalp. His glossy eyes stared down at the man who had died for him. Arms crossed, Richard refused to look directly at the cadaver. His raven-black hair reflected the light. Hands buried in his thick hoodie’s pockets, Guy’s apathetic bug-like eyes stared at the corpse.
Naomi scanned each one of them. “I brought you here because I wanted you to see Logan’s work. Do you understand why I want him stopped?”
Unblinking, Guy nodded methodically. “We all have our reasons.”
Ms. Banks sniffled. A tear snaked down her cheek. “Thank you for showing me this, Naomi.”
“Can we go?” Richard asked with disgust. “Before we all smell like death, I mean.”
Calvin made no comment.
Naomi stood up, feeling her knees pop. “Lead the way.”
Calvin and the other three exited the way they came in. Naomi headed up the stairs, passing empty shelves and drawers in the study and Allen’s room. A sickening feeling grew in Naomi’s belly, realizing that the Scrapers had taken everything. Giving the place a final look, Naomi closed her door and joined the others in the Rover.
An hour later and with a quarter tank of gas left, they arrived back at her parents’ homely farm.
The Rover’s large wheels cruised over the stiff grass and bumpy dirt. It rolled to a steady stop near the barn.
They entered, smelling the stench of wet hay and horse dung. The livestock slept in their stables. Walking through the corridor of horse pens, they reached a wide square area where loose hay sprinkled the dirt floor. An old wooden table stood at the center with an open loft. A slanted stack of metal collapsible chairs rested against the nearby wall. Without saying a word, Calvin and Ms. Banks started pulling chairs and setting them up around the table. Naomi climbed a rectangular wooden rung ladder to the loft. Richard watched her ascent with his lusty eyes.
Calvin turned his way. “Hey. Give us a hand.”
Richard quickly joined him in setting up the table. Guy lingered with the horses, watching them sleep with a vacant expression on his sunken face.
Hunching her head under the lower roof, Naomi walked past the fake owl dangling from the ceiling and the neat stacks of twine-laced hay squares. She reached the back wall of the stuffy loft. Beneath an abandoned wasp nest, she popped the top of a wooden crate, revealing six railroad lamps from George’s collection. The box was fit for eighteen, but the rest had been used in the house. There were still three crates George had been holding onto for the last thirty years.
Naomi lifted the nearly depleted crate and started back to the ladder. Seeing that Guy wasn’t working, she called him over. She dropped the crate into his hands before climbing back down. After setting the lanterns around the table and on bent nails on the walls, Guy used his lighter to ignite the wick before withdrawing a half-smoked cigarette from a crumpled cigarette box residing in his hoodie pocket.
Illuminated by two lanterns on the table and a lantern at the corners of the open space, they each claimed a seat. Richard used his sleeve to sweep away the dirt from his seat top while Guy and Ms. Banks both sat without issue. Before taking a seat, Calvin set his pistol on the table and drew out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. He opened it, straightened it by swiping it on his thigh a few times, and then set it at the center of the table. Naomi plopped into her seat. All five of them looked at the hand-drawn blueprint of Logan’s scrapyard.
Naomi tapped her finger at the sketch of the pill-shaped warehouse. “This is where Logan stores his supplies. He has at least two dozen weapons, countless cans of food and bottles of water, along with medicine, crude weapons, and whatever else he’s stolen. He has workers organizing and keeping inventory daily. Whether he’s highly organized or extremely paranoid, that’s up for interpretation. He’s got eight guards patrolling the yard. Their schedules are changed daily.”
Naomi pointed her finger
at the front gate. “He always has two gate guards hidden within these junk cars that approach any visitor. They have one long rifle and one handgun, with possibly a knife on their belts. The rest of the other guards are armed similarly.”
The newcomers silently processed the information.
Naomi dragged her finger to the crude sketch of the two-story house. “We believe this is where Logan and his lead henchmen sleep and keep the captives. As of now, we have no idea how many guards are stationed within the house at any given moment.”
Lastly, she pointed to the bonfire. “We know they’re partiers. When we break in, we’d want to do it on one of these nights. Unfortunately, we don’t know the frequency of such events.”
“We think they are scheduled,” Calvin added. “Despite all the intoxicants being used at any given time, Logan has done a stand-up job at planning and organizing. He can overplay his hand though. Like when he sent the bulk of his forces to raid Allen’s house.”
Naomi nodded in agreement.
Calvin wiped his grimy brow and continued. “We were planning on following Allen’s suggestion: camp outside of the scrapyard and scout until we learn the enemy’s routine and then find an opening. Preferably do a night raid.”
Naomi bounced her tired blue eyes between the strangers. “Any thoughts?”
The three were quiet for a moment, all thinking to themselves.
Eventually, Ms. Banks spoke up in her soft voice. “I believe we need to understand each others’ goals before we go in. I, for one, am more concerned with releasing the captives than stopping the menace.”
Guy was slouched back in his seat lazily as he spoke plainly. “Killing Logan is all that matters. Crush the head of the snake and the whole operation ends.”
Calvin nodded agreeably.
All eyes went to Richard, who was preoccupied with picking dirt from under his fingernails. It took him a few seconds before he noticed those watching. He quickly sat up. “Oh, uh, Logan took my wife. However we get her back is A-okay with me, though I prefer doing it by riding in on a white horse. She’d like a dramatic rescue.”
Ms. Banks chuckled.
Richard gave her a cheeky grin.
Ms. Banks waved him off. “Oh no, it’s not the horse stunt that’s funny.”
Richard’s smile was replaced with a look of concerned confusion.
Ms. Banks chuckled quietly. “It’s your wife.”
Richard’s face darkened.
Ms. Banks continued. “All this time you’ve been dropping the local girls’ panties, I’m surprised you even spent an ounce of brain power thinking of your beloved.”
The older woman’s verbal jab brought a smile to Calvin’s face.
Frowning, Richard crossed his arms and mumbled. “What do you know about it, prude?”
Ms. Banks chuckled louder at that.
Naomi held her business-like demeanor. “Now that we all know each other a little better, let’s talk logistics. What are your thoughts on the plan?”
Guy looked off to nowhere in particular on the table. “It won’t work.”
Naomi furrowed her brows. “What part?”
“Every part,” Guy said plainly.
Offense crept up in the back of Naomi’s thoughts. “Explain.”
Guy adjusted his slouched position, not making eye contact. “Logan’s influence expands much farther than you think. He’s a brilliant organizer and manipulator, borderline sociopathic, like that apathetic witch he works alongside.”
Richard’s face darkened at the word witch.
“You might be able to breach his fence, but you’ll never escape alive. He’ll kill us men and use the women as his slaves. Not him personally, he’d give you two over to the men of his group as a reward. He only sleeps with the ones he really likes, and those are reserved for him and him alone.”
A sickening silence lingered around the table.
Calvin looked sickly pale than the rest of them. “Let’s just talk about your plan.”
“Logan’s men are drug-crazed and violent. His higher-ups are mostly sober and ruthless. We need to disable his lieutenants, cripple his army so when we attack, we won’t be dealing with his whole force.”
Naomi saw the logic in his words. “True, if we can take his people out one by one, getting the girls out and dealing with Logan won’t be as problematic.” Naomi was almost shocked by her own words. She didn’t know when talking about killing people became normal. “If we can get a list of the farms they raided or the towns they frequent, we’ll have a much better chance of getting them.”
Calvin’s face lit up. “Give me a sec.”
He hurried out to the Rover. The rest of them waited for his return.
Ms. Banks looked at Naomi with pity but kept her lips closed.
Calvin returned a few moments later with the road map and a handful of Sharpies. He opened it next to the scrapyard blueprint and leafed through the pages until he found the map of Virginia. “Logan’s hideaway is located just outside of Grave Mills. We know he’s already taken Madison.” He drew a small red X on the town dot. He took out a blue marker and circled Eagleton. “We know he has a trade route here, fifteen miles from his base.” Calvin looked at Guy. “You seem to know him the best. Do you know where else he has influence?”
Guy took the red marker and marked a few X’s over various farms and Grave Mills itself.
“We passed through Grave Mills tonight, I didn’t see anyone,” said Naomi.
Guy nodded. “Exactly. He’s dealt with most of them.” He marked the town of Ruth, Aylor, Crigerville, Kinderhook, and Hood with an X.
Richard cursed. “All that? How is that possible?”
Guy looked at him seriously. “No one expected his brutality. Most of the people are old, kind farmers looking for the best in others. Logan loosed his army like wolves in a sheep pen.”
Guy circled a few towns in blue. “Wolvestown, Shelby, Burtanville, Quinque, and Ruckersville are his trading towns. As his army grows, he plans to expand as far as Old Somerset.”
Naomi gawked at him. “How do you know all this?”
Guy locked his naturally wide, bug-like eyes on her. “Logan and I have history.”
“Well, that’s not sketchy,” Richard remarked sarcastically.
Calvin scrutinized Guy. “I agree with Rich. You should tell us what your deal with Logan was.”
Guy glared at him. “No.”
Calvin opened his mouth to speak when Naomi cut him off. “I’ve been burned by strangers before. Nevertheless, the best way to earn trust is to show trust. If you don’t want to tell us, Guy, that’s okay, but we do find your vast knowledge of Logan curious.”
Guy kept his lips locked.
With a different-colored Sharpie, Calvin connected the various dots and Xs until he formed Logan’s current sphere of influence. “Guy, you wouldn’t happen to know where he’d attack next?”
Guy shook his head.
“I say we start with where he usually gets his supplies,” Naomi suggested.
Ms. Bank’s mouth formed a line on her face.
“What?” Naomi asked.
Ms. Bank said, “If they learn their people are being attacked, don’t you think they’ll take out their wrath on the locals?”
Guy replied, “The locals are already whipped.”
“Still…” Ms. Banks said.
Richard thought for a moment. “We can go outside of his sphere and wait for his scouts to pass by. No one is blamed that way.”
Calvin shook his head. “That’s miles of potential roads he could choose from. My daughter doesn’t have forever.”
Naomi tapped the road between Burtonville and Shelby. “What about Route 29?”
The rest of them leaned over the map.
Naomi pointed at it. “It is between two hostile towns.”
“He could think we’re just highwaymen,” Richard added.
Ms. Banks nodded. “He wouldn’t be able to blame the towns that way.”
&nb
sp; Calvin added, “Plenty of farmland, barns, and places to hide.”
They looked to Guy. “Route 29 will work.”
The party absorbed the information and then collectively looked at the best place to set up an ambush. Knowing it was the quickest way between the two occupied towns, they assumed Logan’s men would have to pass by at least once per day.
An hour later, they had a plan in place.
Though wishing the strangers could sleep in the barn, Naomi felt guilty and invited them into the house. Juan was the only one awake. After Naomi explained the situation, he set up couches for them. Guy and Richard were assigned the couch and sofa in the living room. Ms. Banks was content with the closet-sized room containing a spare twin mattress.
Before heading to bed, Naomi took a walk outside to gaze up at the infinite stars above. Without city lights, the night sky was a brilliant spectacle. She breathed in the brisk air and held it in her lungs as she thought about what tomorrow would entail.
“Nice night,” Ms. Banks said.
Naomi turned to her right, not realizing how long the woman had been on the porch with her. “You move quietly, Ms. Banks.”
Ms. Banks humbly accepted the compliment with a tiny smile and gazed up at the heavens. “Is it just you, Calvin, and Juan?”
“My parents live here, too,” Naomi explained. “Them and Juan aren’t part of the rescue team, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It is,” Ms. Banks said calmly. “When you came to Eagleton tonight, I thought we’d be joining an army.”
“If I had one, I wouldn’t need to go to Eagleton,” Naomi replied.
“So it’s just the five of us then?”
“I’m afraid so,” Naomi replied.
Ms. Banks smiled softly and looked up, as if speaking to God himself. “Gideon, then?”
She chuckled quietly. Suddenly, she gave Naomi a gentle hug before returning inside. Her feet were slow and quiet. It was like she was gliding across the ground. “Good night, Naomi.”
“Night.”
Aftermath (Book 2): Aftermath Page 9
