by Dean James
“Man, this is bullshit!” Adam piped in. “I don’t need to be treated like some POW by some farmer playing Army.”
Chris eyes grew cold. He locked his sights on the belligerent passenger, flipping the small switch from safe to lethal. He leveled the weapon squarely at Adam’s head while finger slipped inside the trigger guard. Adam looked as if he had just swallowed the business end of a pissed off hornet.
“Let’s get a few things straight asshole,” Chris started, his voice hard as steel. “I never play Army. 4th ID. That means infantry. That also means I can shave a fly off your eyelash from this distance. I can see in your eyes you think you can take me. You would be wrong.” Chris paused, letting his words sink through the layers of stubbornness.
“Secondly,” he continued. “This is my house. This is my property. People who stay here earn their keep. This woman here is a medical professional. She is an asset. She also had the foresight to bring a mobile hospital with her. Not to mention the fact that she helped my daughter when she was sick. As far as I’m concerned, she has already earned her place here.”
“You,” he continued. “I have yet to decide on, and you have not made great strides to appeal to my generous side. If I didn’t need more hands here, your ass would already be walking. So I’m going to ask you one simple question. The correct answer will allow you to stay for now. Otherwise, the road you came in on will be the one you will be leaving on. Are you going to be a pain in my ass?”
“No,” Adam meekly replied.
“Will you do what it takes to stay?” Chris asked.
“Yes,” Adam looked down to his lap. He tried to sound humbled, but Chris saw the jaw muscle twitch, and his eyes narrow. Adam was pissed.
“Good,” Chris said “Let’s get one thing straight. You do anything to harm me or anyone else on this farm, you had better square yourself away with your creator. Because I promise you will be meeting him that day. Am I crystal clear?”
Adam nodded without another word.
“Alright. We have an understanding then,” Chris said flipping his weapon to safe. He pointed the rifle towards the sky, taking on a less confrontational stance. He was willing to bet this wouldn’t be the last confrontation he would have with Adam. The extra help around the farm would be a blessing, but Adam would be someone to watch.
The engine protested as Rosa tried to start the ambulance again. It sputtered and groaned until finally it caught. Chris followed closely behind them as they continued on the wide drive that brought them between the house and a large barn towering over them on their right. An old broken stone silo stood guard by the wide double doors in front, a pile of loose stones lay at its base where they had fallen ages ago.
The place had the look of a once busy farm. The barn had several doors and vehicle bays that looked wide and open enough to drive trucks through. The packed dirt and gravel road between the house and barn was certainly wide enough for heavy equipment. But age and weather had taken its toll on the old building. It looked like it had been several years since the farm had seen such heavy traffic.
Chris motioned the vehicle into the car port just behind the house. The ambulance turned in, making a terrible grinding sound as the wheels cut into the turn. Chris had doubts that the thing would ever start again. It looked as if vehicle had been used as a ram, and the engine was about to give up the ghost. The engine cut off, and as he instructed, the two passengers stayed inside.
“Come on out,” he said, slapping his hand hard on the back door. He kept his weapon pointed to the ground and his arms relaxed. He made his point, and continuing to appear confrontational wouldn’t do anyone any good.
Chris got his first good look at Adam as he slid out of the passenger side. He was shorter than Chris by at least six inches. His blonde hair stuck to his head with the grime and dirt of someone who desperately needed a shower. His frame was well defined and toned. He had the physique of someone who spent too much time in the gym, and not enough doing real work. Chris would solve that problem.
“Look,” he started. “I know you’re both tired, and probably hungry. We’ll take care of that in a little while. But I need to be sure neither of you are dangerous. You need to be checked for bites,” Rosa opened her mouth to protest, but Chris waved it off.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be the one checking you. My wife is just inside, and she can look you over. If you don’t agree, I’m afraid you won’t be able to stay. I hope you understand, Nurse Men…dosa was it?”
“Medina, but please, call me Rosa. And I completely understand,” Rosa answered. “It makes sense, thank you for taking us in.”
“You took care of my daughter, that carries a lot of weight with me,” he replied.
“How is she doing? Feeling any better?” Rosa sounded genuinely concerned.
“Better. She’s still really tired, and doesn’t want to eat much. But she’s doing better.”
“Kids bounce back fast,” Rosa smiled, handing Chris the pill bottle. “I brought these for her.”
“Thank you.” He took the medication, rolling the bottle around in his hands looking as if he was suddenly lost in thought. “Really,” he looked into her eyes. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s no problem. She’s a doll,” Rosa smiled.
“Adam?” Chris started, turning his attention towards the man leaning against the back of the ambulance. His arms were crossed, and he looked like a bundle of irritation. “You ready to get checked?”
“Man, whatever. Let’s just get this over with!” Adam snapped.
“Adam, will you just relax,” Rosa scolded. “He’s taking us in. You could at least try to lose some of that attitude.”
Adam deflated as Rosa turned and walked away. It seemed she had taken what little fight he had left. Chris turned and tried to stifle a laugh. No matter what happened with Adam, he could see himself getting along with the fiery green eyed nurse.
“Hey Joe!” Chris called out. “Can you give me a hand with something?”
“How the hell did you know I was out here?” a booming voice came from around the house.
“Because you make more noise than a break dancing moose,” Chris called back. “Come out and meet our guests. One of them needs a bite check.”
Joe emerged from the other side of the house, cleaning his grease covered hands with an old red rag. He was taller than Chris, with unkempt brown hair. His face was the kind of red someone would earn by working outside in the cold too long. He had on a blue mechanic’s uniform, stained with years of oil and grease. He was by all descriptions, a big man. He had broad shoulders, long arms, and hands that could crush coconuts. Even though he walked on grass, his heavy boots clumped as loud as if he had been walking on concrete. Holstered to his side hung a very large gold finished semi-automatic pistol.
“Howdy!” Joe called out with a friendly wave and a big grin as he made his way over to the group. “Very nice to meet you. I’d shake your hands, but I don’t think you want any of this crap on you.” He held out his palms, displaying the caked on gunk he had been trying to clean off. He went back to work with his rag, until he finally gave up, stuffing the oily cloth into his back pocket.
“Well, your generators out. I can’t fix it without the right parts, and I think all the parts stores might be out of business for a while. We’re lights out once the grid hits the shitter,” Joe said turning to Chris. “How often do you maintain that thing?”
“They need to be maintained?” Chris asked. Joe looked at him as if Chris had just asked him if he liked to breathe air or if water was actually wet.
“Looks like we’ll have to wait for your brother to get here to hook up that solar deal you got in the garage,” Joe said shaking his head. His face suddenly changed, drawing down with concern. “Any word from him?”
“No. Nothing since last night,” Chris said gravely.
“I see. What about Jake?” Chris didn’t answer, his eyes trailing to the ground. “Oh. I’m sorry, Chris,” Joe said p
atting his friend on the shoulder.
“Well,” Joe began again. “Let’s get this over with. I’ll take…” Joe stopped, looking around at both newcomers. “I’m sorry I haven’t been introduced. You are?” he asked thrusting his hand out to Adam.
“I’m Adam, this is Rosa,” Adam said, instantly regretting shaking Joe’s hand. He sighed deeply as he stared at the newly deposited oil on his palm.
“Oops, sorry about that,” Joe said shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you Rosa…oh my God, you are one pretty lady.” Joe’s eyes widened, his jaw hanging open as he stared at her. She smiled back at him, her cheeks reddening.
“Smooth,” Chris said cocking his head at Joe. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to forgive my nitwit friend over there. Sometimes he really doesn’t have a filter between his brain and his mouth.”
“He’s fine,” Rosa laughed. “At least he speaks his mind.”
“Endlessly,” Chris sighed. “Let’s go inside, Anna can look you over while I start making breakfast. Eggs and bacon sound good?” Chris barely got the words out before the chorus of “Yes” hit him.
“Good, cause there wasn’t another option anyway. Joe, when you’re finished with Vanilla Ice over there, why don’t you show him how to collect eggs,” Chris said before leading Rosa through the back door.
**********
“What’s with that guy?” Adam asked as Joe led him to one of the barn’s side doors.
“What do you mean?” Joe asked as he opened the door. Adam stepped inside, relieved at the little warmth in the room. He had no real desire to stand outside wearing nothing but his birthday suit in the middle of December.
“Rambo over there,” Adam said, thumbing towards the house. “We pull up in his driveway and he puts a rifle in my face and starts barking orders like he’s some kind of drill sergeant.”
“Don’t let him bother you too much. He’s under a lot of stress right now. His brother is on his way, but we lost touch with him last night,” Joe said as he turned on the lights.
The cavernous room lit up with an intense light from the metal halide bulbs suspended high above. The room looked like a garage and workshop all rolled into one. Tools and tractor parts hung along the bare plywood walls. Welding equipment occupied the center of the floor. Piles of heavy rebar sat a few feet from the large welding tanks, their edges sharpened to a point. The largest collection of razor wire that Adam had ever seen lined the back of the room in stacked in tight coils.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Joe continued. “His bite is definitely worse than his bark, but he’s usually not this bad. After a nap, he’ll be fine.”
“This doesn’t look like the kind of stuff I thought I’d find in a barn,” Adam said, nodding towards the back wall.
“It isn’t,” Joe answered as he leaned against the wall. The wood groaned under his weight until Adam thought the beast of a man might just fall right through the wall. “You didn’t see any gates or fences when you came in did you?”
“Naw man,” Adam replied. “I was too busy staring at the huge gun in my face.”
“Fair enough,” Joe said. “Well, there is none. Just the fence around the house, and that’s more to keep the animals out of the yard when they escape their pens. We made quite a few trips over the last day or so, picked up some things that might help us stay alive a while longer. We’re going to have to be creative keeping those things out. Of course, if that doesn’t work, I’ll have to turn to my new friend here,” he said, patting the large weapon on his side.
“I saw that. That is a bad ass gun,” Adam said.
“This, my friend, is a Desert Eagle Mark 29 .50 AE, complete with titanium gold finish. Picked it up yesterday from a gun shop. The owner had it on his hip, but I don’t think he’d know how to shoot it anymore,” Joe laughed.
“Now,” he continued. “I don’t usually ask this from another guy, but I’m going to need you to strip. I’m getting hungry, and we still have eggs to collect. You need to eat too, there’s a lot of work to get done and not a lot of time to do it.”
Adam obliged, stripping to his underwear. As he stood shivering, waiting for this latest embarrassment to be over, Adam began to plan. He would play nice for now, until he earned their trust. Somehow, he would find a way get his hands on that gun. When he did, he would use it to blow a hole through this laughing oaf, and then through the smug face of GI Joe.
A smile crept across his face.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shadows passed across my vision. My scrambled mind tried to piece things together, but I couldn’t register what was happening around me. I struggled to break through the veil of fog blanketing my senses. I felt my body moving, but it wasn’t under my own power. I heard distant and muffled voices, as if my head bobbed just below the surface of a vast ocean. I was floating between the realm of the unconscious and the living world, gaining only glimpses of what was happening beyond my distorted senses.
Suddenly my ethereal world shuddered, and began to dim. I heard a scream, I think. What was a calming journey through the recesses of my sleeping mind became something more sinister. I felt the sudden urge to be away from this place. Something inside my soul knew I had to be away from this sea before it swallowed me completely. I began to fight and claw my way up, reaching towards the surface of my conscious mind.
It was like someone flipped a switch. Or possibly beat me with one, I wasn’t quite sure. Either way, I was awake. I couldn’t raise my head, as everything above my neck hurt. The headache I had was, in a word, epic. My skull felt as if had been used as Mohammad Ali’s personal speed bag. The blinding sunlight streaming through the now opened garage door did little to calm the throbbing in my temples. I tried to raise my hands to rub my head, but I found I couldn’t move them. I suddenly realized that I was sitting up in a metal chair with my wrists firmly duct taped to the arm rests.
“What the…” I couldn’t finish the expletive that would have followed. Pain rocketed through my jaw as I spoke, threatening to send me back to sleepy town.
“Dan!” I heard Abby’s frantic whisper. “Dan, please wake up! They’re still here!”
As if her words were not ominous enough, I had never heard such a level of terror in Abby’s voice before. Not even when we pulled off our great escape from our undead houseguests. That alone spurred me on to perform the herculean feat of raising the bowling ball that was my head. I tried to focus through the haze that still swam through my mind, until I caught a glimpse of Abby. My instantaneous rage brought my thoughts back to crystal clarity.
Abby sat across from me, tied down to a chair similar to the one I currently resided in. Her black turtle neck had been cut open, straight down the front. Her clearly unclasped bra hung loosely from her shoulders. Her eyes were bloodshot, face still wet with the tears that still flowed freely from her eyes. I could see a hand shaped bruise starting to form on her reddened cheek. A tiny drop of blood trickled from a small cut on her swollen lip just below her bruising cheek.
Katie and Jane huddled together, their arms wrapped around each other and leaning against our car’s front tire. Their faces were red and soaked with tears. They shivered, either from the cold or fear. Probably both. Neither of the two appeared to have been restrained or harmed; physically anyway. Whoever had done this must have decided the two kids were not much of a flight risk.
I saw no sign of Lexi. I prayed she was safe, hiding somewhere until this ordeal was over. In the short time she had been travelling with us, I had come to think of her as part of our family. As much as I tried, I could not help myself but to think the worst had already befallen her. Judging from the state of Abby’s clothes, I didn’t have to try too hard to guess what our captors would have planned for the teen girl.
Motorcycles thundered outside. I could hear voices through the open bay door, but could not hear what they were saying over the growling bikes. The engines revved, and heard them pull out to the road and rocket away until they were only a
n echo in an otherwise peaceful winter morning.
“Oh, looks like the big man is awake,” Mutton Chops said as he strolled back inside. He wore a big yellow toothy grin on his pock marked face. He was taller than me, and his gut was clearly earned through years of beer and pizza. A red bandana tied around the back of his head sat underneath the graying pony tail hanging to his mid back. An old chrome revolver, black tape wrapped around its cracked wooden handle was tucked into his belt.
I was shocked to see that he had somehow squeezed his impressive bulk into my jacket. Not so much that he able to get it on, but that I had not noticed that I was no longer wearing it. I wasn’t cold, and that worried me. I had no idea how long I had been exposed to the elements, but I wasn’t looking forward to a repeat performance of my near death by exposure.
“Who the fuck are you!?” I forced out between gritting teeth. I grimaced as the words sent searing pain through my jaw.
“That hurt?” Chops said with a smile. He kneeled down until we were face to face. The stench of whiskey and cigarettes carried on his breath. I would bet he could give any of the undead a run for its money in the odor department.
“We thought we killed you earlier,” he said with a slimy grin. “We didn’t want to do that just yet. We want to take our time with you. What would be the fun in you dying so soon?” He patted my cheek, following with a backhand that sent my brain reeling.
“Don’t hit my daddy!” Katie shouted.
“Shut up you little shit!” Chops stepped towards the kids, his hand raised.
“Leave her alone!” Abby screamed.
“Fine,” he said. Abby shrieked as the back of his hand struck her unmarred cheek. Her head snapped to the side, blood spittle sprayed the floor.
“Fuck you!” I shouted. He looked at me with a maniacal grin.
“Don’t worry tough guy. I won’t hurt this sweet thing too much. Not yet anyway. And when we do, you’ll get to watch the whole thing.” He lifted her head up, and licked her cheek from her chin to her forehead. Abby shuddered and looked nauseous. He moved behind her chair, reaching his grimy hands down her chest to roughly grasp at her breasts. Abby recoiled as much as she could from his touch.
