“Take me you cowards,” Carter yells and then swears. A commotion arises behind me as Carter resists. He must have realized that he isn’t one of the two. He swears loudly and the scuffle of bodies continues. “Paige, Paige are you-” his voice is cut off by the loud thud of a door slamming shut.
“Carter...” Paige begins, but her shout ends in a whimper. I suppose Paige is the other one.
I tug lightly on the zip-tie between my wrists. The plastic isn’t breaking anytime soon. We stumble along the same cement corridor. They lead us around several turns and down a flight of steps. I hear one guard snicker.
“Now, this is a waste,” his raspy voice whispers. “Why couldn't we execute the men first?”
My heart sinks.
So, I guess this is the end.
We continue for another several minutes down the hallway. There are a few yells, and whistles from various voices that we pass. A hand suddenly grabs my shoulder and drags me to the left and onto a small layer of snow; we are back outside somewhere. Behind me are a few shouts from David and Ryan. They must be outside, too. A few minutes later while walking on the melting snow, a hand pushes me against a wall. My fingertips briefly feel the mortar between the bricks. The sound of boots on asphalt becomes more distant.
A shoulder gently brushes against my own.
“Paige?” I whisper while turning my head. The little I can see beneath my blindfold show’s it’s her still beside me.
“Jo,” she replies with a little bit of relief. It’s good to know whom you are going to die beside. I search for words to say in these final moments. I feel like there’s still so much to share. I know it was bumpy in the beginning, but she is my friend. She is my family.
It’s not so bad to die beside a friend.
The loading of gun chambers echoes against the walls around us.
“On your knees.”
We both remain standing.
“On your knees!” The voice yells again.
We both still remain standing.
“Aw, to hell with it, men. Fire.”
I hold my breath and anticipate the shots.
Chapter 10: Nichols
I close my eyes and shake my head. The image in front of me is all too familiar. How did I end up here? In this stadium...
BANG.
The gun recoiled as I had anticipated. I tightened my muscles and watched with eager anticipation as my target fell into the dusting of snow. There wasn't need for a second shot. I holstered the gun and walked towards the mildly flinching body. A few light drops of blood contrasted with the white snow. It was a clean shot - right through the head.
Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat ei.
At least it didn’t suffer.
I reached down and pulled up the raccoon by its back legs. It would be the first full meal I’d had in weeks. Maybe I was just too clumsy, but I couldn’t find a thing in these frozen woods. This poor little guy chose the wrong time to come out in front of an international trick shooter. Well, I wish I were an international trick shooter. My father was really the one. He had the fastest hands in the nation, maybe the world. He could toss six nickels into the air, and shoot each one before it hit the ground with his revolver. That's how he said I got my name. Mom said otherwise.
Either way, he taught me everything I know.
I am not anywhere near as talented as he was, but I can keep pace. It was tough when he died from the plague. I felt like there was still so much left for me to learn. “You have everything you need; now live,” were the last things he said to me. He was and is right.
I set off with his pair of Colt revolvers and grandfather's Catholic book of prayer. He was a traditional man, and I had spent hours with him learning prayer as he said was “the correct way.” On my head was that white cowboy hat mom wore for her horse shows. It matched her horse. Sadly, I had never learned how to ride it, so I simply released it when I set off on my journey. Perhaps I would have held on to her if I knew my car would break down a few weeks later.
I roasted and ate what I could of the raccoon that night. Normally, I would have liked to stop for the night, but spending the night in the open air was suicide. I expected to have found some more houses by this point to stay in for the evening. I climbed back to my feet and set off to find shelter.
I’d hiked through the recently fallen snow for weeks, but the night was especially cold. Every breeze was a new blade to my skin as opposed to other nights where it would simply burn my nose. I trudged through the snow for hours, flinching each time a gust went through. I leaned against a random tree and pulled my coat tight across my body, trying to maintain some of my body heat. The frigid water seemed to seep to the very bone marrow in my feet.
I came to a small clearing and lifted my body over a fence. A few yards in front of me were perfect rows of pine. I imagined it was once a farmer’s Christmas tree harvest. In Texas, people rarely had the real ones around the holidays. It was just too hot. I started to walk through the trees when I heard the first shouts. I quickly pressed against a nearby trunk and concentrated on the voices. The voices were of a few people yelling - men yelling.
“-don’t let him escape,” one voice shouted, echoing lightly off the trees. The sound of boots through snow followed. I’d stumbled upon a chase of some kind. I held my body tighter against the tree and waited. The sounds grew louder, the source closer. A dark figure came within view, and another figure soon tackled it from behind. They rolled around for a bit until a third man entered with a drawn gun. They exchanged a few words and then started to head off away from me. I had trouble seeing them completely, so I moved out more into the open.
I needed to know what was going on.
CRACK. I stepped on a branch beneath the snow.
I froze, the one man turned, looking directly at me. My hands moved slowly to my holsters. The man just continued to stare at me. It must have been too dark for him to see far. I remained completely still.
CRACK. Another sound came from the side. The man’s head turned sharply in the other direction. I utilized the distraction to crouch behind a nearby bush and put my back to it. I tried to gather my breath and lower my heart rate. I listened for a sound with a revolver down at my side.
The sound of boots began, and it dissipated. I peeked around the bush and saw the three men moving farther into the distance. With all my “wisdom,” I decided to follow them.
I maintained a safe distance and watched as they dragged and pushed the man through the rows of pine and over a hill. Once I crossed the hill, I saw what they considered home. A large building sat at the bottom of the valley. A faint light glowed from the windows.
The two men and their captive proceeded to a small greenhouse adjacent to the main building. I considered following them, but the curiosity of the larger structure was overpowering due to the deep orange flickering light: fire. Warmth. Just as I passed the greenhouse, I heard the first scream from the captive.
“Who are these people?” I thought to myself. I stepped back to the greenhouse and watched through a crack in the wall as the one man interrogated the other. I didn’t agree with the method, but I understood his drive. This building was their home, and this man showed up uninvited. You can never be too careful.
I just hoped that they didn't find me.
“Ryan, take it easy,” the one said. I guess Ryan was the rough one. Shortly after, I left them and moved on to inspect the main building. Several people were gathered around a central fire. There were men and women and none of them looked too threatening. Most of the really dangerous groups didn’t have women, and they seemed to be almost half women. I carefully peered through the window until I heard a pair of voices. I quickly hid in the shadows along the wall.
“Those two seem really close to finding a cure,” a woman's voice said. I couldn’t make out much of her face in the darkness.
What I was more concerned with was what she had just said.
“They’re probably th
e best hope the whole country has,” a male voice returned.
I didn’t know who these people were, but if they were working on a cure, I was not going to stray far from them. I may be a loner, but word still spread quickly about how the virus came back.
Another scream emitted from the captive in the greenhouse.
“Ryan’s being brutal this time,” she said.
“It's getting scary,” he answered. The two passed by and disappeared around the building.
I stayed beneath the window, hidden by a pile of scrap wood. I listened carefully to the voices on the inside. Soon the Ryan from the greenhouse ran into the room and exclaimed that more intruders were coming. This had me worried. Apparently, the guy they captured was the bad guy.
I listened to his plan, and although I didn’t agree with it, there was little I could do to change it. They probably were not in a “making friends” mood. Then, I had an idea.
Just as half of them went off into the fields, I went in the opposite direction of the farm. I was careful of my surroundings and made my way far from the building. My feet eventually found a road, and I picked up my pace for another hundred yards or so.
Once I felt that I went far enough, I stopped and regained some of my breath. It seemed like a good plan.
I withdrew my revolver and pointed it into the sky. With a pull of the trigger, I fired all six shots with different timing between each.
I thought that with any luck, the sounds would pull the intruders away from the farm. Also, no one would get hurt. After firing, I made my way back to the farm by going completely around the opposite side in a large circle.
When I reached the farmhouse, the others who went into the field had already returned and there was no sign of anyone else. Maybe it was me, maybe it wasn’t, but they were safe. Everything was okay again. Afraid to startle them, I kept my distance on the outside, spending the night against the wall so I could feel some of the warmth from within. In the morning, several more arrived in a sedan. There seemed to be a brief moment of panic, but everything turned out to be okay. I continued to watch the group and study them without getting too close. Slowly I got a feel for several of them, but rarely could I make out any of their names.
Late that night, I heard a pair outside the building discussing their plan to go back into the city to acquire the final ingredients for this cure. My plan was to reveal myself in the morning before they left. It was risky, but I wouldn't be able to keep up any other way. I had been a recluse long enough. While I worked it all out in my mind, my eyes closed and I drifted asleep.
That morning, I overslept.
I awoke to a vacant farm. After quickly helping myself to a few of the supplies they left behind, I made my way down the road to find some way to catch up to them. After several miles, I found an abandoned car nearly hidden along the side of the road. Judging by its condition, it hadn't been abandoned for more than a week or two.
I still wonder what happened to its occupants. There was a little blood on the inside of the windshield, but no bullet holes or anything worse. Why would someone just leave that out there? Anyway, I was lucky because a little work with its wires and the car instantly started, and I was back on their trail.
I followed them into the city by following their tracks in the snow little bit of snow left on the asphalt. Just as I passed through the tunnel and arrived at the bridge, I saw them being taken by men in black uniforms – New Americans.
These past six years I've been mostly alone, but I've heard of these New Americans. The new government for the country or whatever. Usually what I heard about them was not good.
I trailed them from a distance, and after abandoning the car, I carefully sneaked in to the compound that had been established within the baseball stadium property. The soldiers were much too preoccupied by their captives and left their posts unattended. Crossing over a fence and getting alongside the building was all too easy. I scaled the outside of the stadium and leaped onto the second level. Then, I made my way through the concourse and out among the seats that face the field. While squatting, my eyes searched over the side for any sign of them. The field itself had a few trucks parked on the infield. Long wires stretched from them into the perimeter of the stadium. Dozens of uniformed soldiers moved around the concrete walkways of the first level. Lights were on sporadically around the field. Then, I saw a small animal struggling through the snow on the baseball field between two of the eighteen-wheelers. It reminded me of... that raccoon from just a few nights ago.
I quickly shake my head - this has been plenty of self-reflection. I am not going to be shooting that animal today, despite how hungry my stomach says it is. It doesn't matter how I got here; I'm here. I stand up and walk to the edge of the second level of the stadium. Sneaking into this base was the easy part, now I need a way to release my maybe, could-be, hopefully friends. I walk slowly around the perimeter of the baseball field, glancing every so often over the edge and hoping to catch a glimpse of-
There they are.
Two of the females are being escorted out of the stadium from the outfield section exits. I quickly run back into the concrete concourse of the second level and run down to where they seem to be taking them – to the buildings beside the river. The guards guide them outside the fence and down between a few of these buildings. It will take too long to find the stairs – I decide to jump. I look down over the side. The cement ground below is covered with schools buses and Humvees. Gripping the rail, I leap over, hang for a moment to limit the true height of the fall, and kick off the vertical surface. Landing a little less than twenty feet below on the top of a bus is still painful, but with a quick roll, I stand up unharmed. After making sure the coast is clear, I run to the end of the bus and leap onto the roof of a building that is adjacent to the alley those girls were led down. Upon arriving at the corner, I pause and stare down. The guards stand at the entrance to the alley. Judging by the blood against the walls, this is a common place for executions. Their bodies would be easily disposed in the river. They lift their rifles while yelling at the women to kneel. The girls don't listen.
Good for them.
I quickly reach for my revolver and aim at the two men. I could probably shoot the one from here. But the other one may fire on the women before I can fire the second shot. I'm fast, but with their guns aimed, all they have to do is pull the trigger. I’d have to get their attention first.
My feet leave the top of the wall.
I should have thought about this more.
I leap down into the alleyway between the girls and the two armed men. I land on my feet, bending my knees completely to absorb most of the impact. I stand up quickly with my hands to my sides. The two executioners are caught off-guard.
“Who the hell are you?” the left one yells. A gust of wind travels through the alley and brings up my black coat into the wind. In the moment of confusion, their guns waver and sag to their sides for just a second.
The second I need.
I raise my left revolver and slide down the hammer twice with the side of my right hand. One of the guard’s fingers tightens on his gun and fires harmlessly into the brick wall.
Good thing I was careful.
A small stream of smoke rises into the air from the tip of my barrel. Both guards go down.
“Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis,” I whisper lightly. These aren't the first people I've needed to kill since the plague, but I never enjoyed taking a life. I push the release on the revolver and open the chamber with a flick of the wrist. On instinct, I empty the two spent rounds and reload them.
More men will be coming, and I will need every round ready. I turn to the two women, still standing there blindfolded. The one tilts her head up to try and determine what was going on through the small gap along the bottom of her blindfold.
I quickly rush behind them while pulling out the long knife from my boot. With two upward thrusts, their hands are freed and they pull down their blindf
olds. They are both lovely women, but this wasn’t anytime to gape.
“Who the hell are you?” the pale red-head exclaims. I reach along my back, pull out my spare .38 pistol, and toss it to her.
“Name’s Nichols. I'm on your side. No time for formalities; can you handle that?” She looks it every briefly and nods. The other dark skinned woman runs up to one of the dead soldiers and pulls the pistol from his holster. She slides the chamber back and gives me a nod.
“Let’s get the hell outta here,” she says. “We have to rescue the others, too.”
The three of us run out of the alleyway and head across the open sidewalk and back into the stadium. A small group of guards turns towards us as we rush into the stadium at a sprint.
“Hey!” the one yells, fumbling to raise his weapon. The three of us fire several rounds before they can manage another word. The four guards drop. I reload my weapon, and we continue our jog down the concourse and up a broken escalator.
“You two have any idea where they are?” I ask between heavy breaths at the top.
“No,” the red head says, glancing quickly at me. Her eyes are a color you rarely see.
BANG.
A chunk of cement from the nearby wall shatters away. More gunshots continue and pepper the area around us. The black woman is the first to dive into the safety of a concession stand within the wall of the stadium. We follow right behind her. The menu above explodes from the gunfire, and pieces of plastic rain down on us. I fire a few blind shots over the top. We are trapped.
Desperate times. I reach into my back belt and unclasp a black sphere with a pin. I pull the pin with my teeth, and continue to hold the clip down.
“Is that?” the redhead asks.
I nod. Desperate measures. I’ve been saving it for a rainy day. I hurl the grenade over the top of the counter and cover my ears.
Humanity Gone (Book 3): Rebirth Page 6
