Bitter Cold Apocalypse 2 (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller)

by T. W. Connor

  Some of the people we knew hadn’t been so lucky. We hadn’t lost anyone, but some of the singles who hadn’t had family to keep them warm had come out of the night distinctly blue around the edges, and I wondered to myself whether we were going to have to deal with frostbite when we got to Marlon’s estate—and his medical supplies.

  I didn’t say it out loud because I didn’t want to frighten anyone. But getting these people on the move and warmed up was one of my first priorities this morning. Yes, it was going to be a dangerous march. We were going to have to keep our wits about us, and our eyes on the horizons—for wolves, for bears, and for Randall—but we definitely didn’t have a choice. I’d known it last night, when we first got the people set up, and I’d spent the entire night thinking about it at least once every five minutes.

  Now, looking at them huddled and shivering in the pre-dawn freeze, I was dead positive of it.

  “Let’s get them moving,” I muttered to Marlon. “The sooner they’re moving, the sooner they’ll start to warm up.”

  “And the sooner we’ll leave Randall’s immediate range,” he agreed. “I’m with you, John. I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.”

  “People!” I said, not bothering to answer Marlon. “We’re going to be making our way to a safer, more secure, and definitely warmer location. Not that that’s saying much.” There was some scattered laughter at that, and it warmed my heart a little bit.

  If they were still capable of laughing at an extremely obvious joke, then they were going to be okay.

  I continued, “We’re going to be walking for about ten miles, so it’s going to be quite a trek, and we’re going to need to do it as quickly as we can. We don’t want the guy who invaded town to come after us. And if he does, we don’t want him to catch us. I’m going to need a few things from you. Stay close together. Don’t wander off the track. Don’t take a break unless we’re all taking a break. Don’t straggle behind, and please don’t complain the entire time, because someone might actually shoot you.”

  Another laugh from the crowd.

  “And help those who need help. We have some elderly folks around, and we have a lot of kids. If you can carry them, do it. If you can lend a shoulder, do it. We’re all in this together, and that means that if one of us falters, we all falter. Right?”

  There was a brief pause, but then the crowd rallied. “Right!” they said, their voices firm.

  These people might not be military trained, but they were people hardy and brave enough to live in a very tiny town in Northern Michigan. They knew the rules. No man left behind.

  I counted on them to stick to that and, turning, started toward the river. The sooner we got across that—and to the forest on the other side—the harder it was going to be for Randall to catch us, and the happier I’d be.

  We were only about a mile from the river, and we made pretty quick work of that mile, as soon as people started to warm up and get looser. Though we’d started out in the pitch black, we’d also had pretty easy going, and the sun was just barely kissing the horizon when we arrived at the river.

  The good news was that this meant we’d be crossing ice that was still frozen from the night’s temperatures. The bad news was that we’d be doing it in the dark. If someone went through, we had almost zero chance of finding them and getting them out again. Sure, we had flashlights and battery-operated lanterns, but I remembered how quickly Angie had moved once the current had her, and I knew for a fact that anyone who went into the water was going to be long gone before we could organize enough to start looking for them.

  As I looked out across the expanse of ice, I did my absolute best not to think about that. Because we didn’t have any choice but to get across it. And we didn’t have any way to do that but on our own feet.

  “We going to be able to get them all across that?” Bob asked quietly from next to me.

  “We don’t have a choice,” I answered. “But we do it gradually. Quickly, but not everyone at once. And I think…I think we break them up. Have groups of five to seven people cross together. And send them up and downriver so that we have multiple groups crossing at the same time, at different places on the ice. Otherwise we’re going to be here forever. And we can’t afford to risk that.”

  I glanced nervously downriver, where I could just make out the smudge that was our town. Still dark. Still quiet. I hoped.

  I hoped to God that Randall didn’t have anyone looking this way with binoculars. If they did, and they saw what we were doing, they’d be here before we could get everyone to the other side. And we were absolutely not in any position to try to defend ourselves against a pack of madmen with guns.

  “Thank God it’s still dark,” I murmured. Then I snapped to attention and started moving toward the townspeople. “Let’s get this done before it starts to get too light out. I don’t want to take the chance of Randall or his men spotting us.”

  I picked out several men and women to help Bob guide the groups, then gave them their instructions. Five people, max, if they were adults. Seven, if they included some children.

  “And everyone carries their own supplies,” I said. “No leaving them behind for someone else to take care of. Walk smoothly, no stomping. If you have a little one who’s inclined to stomp, carry them. And remember…” I looked around the group, my eyes as cold as steel, my heart growing still in my chest. “Feel through your feet. If you feel the ice shift under you, run for the bank. And I mean run. If you go through the ice, grab the edge as you go through, so that we have a shot at grabbing you. Drop anything that goes into the water with you. Whatever it is, we can replace it. We can’t replace you.”

  I let that one sink in for only a moment before I started talking again.

  “Guides, let’s get them moving across the ice every ten minutes or so. Give the group ahead of you a chance to get over the middle of the river before you start. And, go.”

  I watched as everyone jumped into action, already following directions—partially because the movement was going to keep them warm, and partially because they wanted to get it over with. The guides made very short work of organizing the groups and getting them started either across the river or up or down the river, to cross somewhere else, and within moments the first people were starting out onto the ice.

  Marlon suddenly appeared by my side, his eyes on the first group in front of us.

  “That was quick work,” he said quietly.

  “I learned a long time ago that the best way to get people to work for you is to give them their directions and let them figure it out themselves,” I replied. “Give them their boundaries, watch to make sure they’re doing it safely, but make them feel as if they’re in charge. They like to know the rules. They also like to feel like they’re doing their part.”

  I felt rather than saw his eyes on me in a long, considering stare, but didn’t bother to look at him. Marlon knew exactly who and what I was, and I suspected that he knew a whole lot more about that than he was letting on. He didn’t need me to try to explain how I had come about my theories.

  Because something told me he already knew. And that he was just waiting for the right time to tell me how and why he knew.

  Marlon, Bob, Angie, Sarah, and I were going to make up the last group. We’d wanted to wait until everyone else was across, for two reasons. First, it meant that we would be able to protect the townspeople if Randall and his men showed up. Marlon and I were the best fighters, and Bob—and Angie, if it came down to it—were very good shots themselves. We would be able to hold Randall off until our stand-ins on the other side of the river—Sean and Joe—were able to get the townspeople to some sort of safety in the woods.

  Second, we were better able to help from here, too. If anyone went through the ice, I wanted to see it happen so that I could get there to try to help.

  And third, if I was being honest, the journey was going to be more difficult for us than for anyone else. Because Angie’s leg was still fresh out of
surgery, and though we’d fixed her back into the exoskeleton for walking, I didn’t think any of us had forgotten our last trip over the ice. Or the disaster that had almost befallen us.

  I hadn’t wanted to hold any other groups up. And I was dreading taking Angie out onto that ice more than a little bit.

  “It’ll be fine,” she said, bumping my arm with hers shoulders. “Stop looking at the ice like it’s your worst enemy.”

  “The last time I had you on the ice, I nearly lost you,” I noted quietly. “Can you blame me?”

  “And if you’ll recall, that accident was partially because we were actually using a snow sled on the ice,” she reminded me. “Which we’re not doing this time. Everything is going to be fine. Let’s go.”

  She hobbled ahead of me for two steps before I started after her, reaching out to take her arm and thread it through mine to try to make walking easier.

  I would have carried her if she’d have let me. But I’d offered, and she’d promptly turned me down.

  “The day I can’t walk for myself is the day I’m dead,” she said bluntly. “And that’s not today, John. It’s not today.”

  We got to the ice faster than I was ready for, but one glance at the horizon showed me that the sun was already about one-quarter of the way up. Too much sunlight was streaming across the horizon, now, and that meant that we were getting into the danger zone.

  We needed to get across that ice quickly. But speed, I knew, could very well be the enemy. Especially with the weight of Angie’s exoskeleton.

  I grasped her arm more firmly to my side and cast a look at Marlon, who was carrying Sarah for me.

  “If she goes in, we do whatever it takes to save her, got it?” I asked sharply.

  Marlon gestured over his shoulder, to where his pack was resting on his back. “I’ve got an axe in my pack, just for that. But it’s not going to happen, John. It’s going to be fine.”

  I nodded, trying to trust him, and then took my first step out onto the ice.

  The snow had stopped falling before we arrived at the river, so we were at least saved from the slippery experience of snow over ice, but the going still wasn’t easy. We spent more time sliding than actually walking, and grasping onto each other as we shuffled forward, Angie’s injured leg moving more slowly than her good one and her breathing heavy with the effort.

  “Are you okay?” I asked when we were about a quarter of the way across.”

  “Be a lot better once we’re there,” she answered. “Any sign of Randall yet?”

  I cast my glance quickly toward the town, but we’d gone into a depression to get to the river, and I could no longer see ground level. If he was coming, we wouldn’t know about it until he was right on top of us. Literally.

  “No sign. I think we’re safe,” I lied.

  She had enough on her plate. She didn’t need to deal with the fact that we had no idea whether Randall was coming after us or not.

  Behind me, I could hear Marlon breathing heavily, and wondered momentarily if we should perhaps switch jobs. Carrying Sarah wasn’t an easy task—something I knew all too well—and carrying her across ice, while worrying that he or she might go through, had to be absolute hell.

  But I didn’t want to stop for long enough to make the exchange, so I didn’t say anything. Instead, I grasped Angie closer to me and pressed forward, sliding her as much as I could and taking as much pressure as possible off her injured leg. We were halfway across the river, now. With luck, five more minutes would see us on the other bank.

  And then I could get her into the litter I’d had Joe carry across for me, so that she could rest while I towed her back through the woods that led to Marlon’s house—and, I hoped, some momentary safety.

  19

  We had the townspeople gathered together on the other side of the river within ten minutes of my group getting there, and in fifteen more we were within the embrace of the forest on that side, every last one of us under cover of the spreading branches. True, those branches were mostly free of foliage now, but that didn’t negate the fact that we were literally in amongst the trees, our figures and movement hidden by the close-set trunks. The woods were very dense, here, and though it would make traveling trickier, it would also provide us much better cover from prying eyes.

  Eyes like those of Randall and his men.

  Marlon and I were standing at the back of the group, our eyes on where we could now see the town, looking for that very man. And so far, I didn’t see any movement within the buildings. I definitely didn’t see any lookouts or guards outside of the town.

  “What the hell are they doing in there, sleeping?” I asked quietly.

  “Could be,” Marlon said slowly, frowning. “Though it doesn’t seem like Randall to fall asleep on the job, so to speak. He knows we have his weapons. He knows we’re moving. And I just don’t see him letting us go easily.”

  I frowned as well. I didn’t know Randall as well as Marlon did, obviously, and definitely not as well as Bob and the rest of the town did, but I had to agree with Marlon. We were talking about a man who had literally followed us ten miles through the forest, trying to kidnap my wife—or kill us for having taken her from him. I still hadn’t figured out which he’d actually been trying to accomplish, by the end.

  Either way, he didn’t seem like the sort of man who just let things go. Particularly when he’d evidently been dreaming of them for months.

  “Is it a trap?” I asked, my mind running through the possibilities. “They must know that we can’t survive in the wilds. Not at this time of year. They have to realize that we’ve got to get the people to some sort of shelter, before they freeze to death or starve—or both. And the most likely shelter is town itself. Do you suppose they’re trying to…act like they’ve gone, in the hope that we’ll come back? So they can just take us all out right there, where it all started?”

  Marlon was quiet for a long moment, thinking about it, and I was already poking holes in my own statement by the time he spoke again. “Randall knows me well enough to know that I would never take them back there without an assurance that he was gone. And I don’t think he knows you well, but I do think he’s probably built up a healthy respect for your…capabilities in the past few days.”

  This statement was accompanied by what I thought was probably a wry smile, and I smiled to myself as well.

  “If he hasn’t, he’s a fool,” I answered quietly. “And honestly, I don’t care what he’s doing in there. We have to find the people shelter, and we have to do it now. I don’t think the town is an option right now. Not when we don’t know what he’s doing. And that means that our best move is still your estate.”

  There was another long pause from Marlon, and this time I actually looked at him, wondering what the hell was up. Was he actually considering going back into town? Actually thinking about leading the people back over there when we’d just spent all that time crossing the ice?

  Because it seemed like actual lunacy to me. Yes, at some point it would make sense to get the people back to their homes, but right now it was a suicide mission, plain and simple.

  When I saw his face, though, all I could see was the blank mask of his thoughts. He was staring intently at the town—but he also wasn’t letting his ideas show on his face. He was as blank as any person could possibly be.

  As blank any spy might have been when someone was trying to get top-secret information out of them.

  The moment I opened my mouth to ask what he was thinking, though, he snapped out of it and his face returned to its normal status of movement. He turned to me and shook his head.

  “We’ll have to get back in there eventually. And soon. But right now, we can’t risk it. You’re right; the only option is my estate. Let’s get the people moving now, before Randall figures out what we’ve done and finds a way to come after us.”

  He turned and made his way back toward the large group of townspeople before I could answer him, leaving me with yet another questio
n about what his history was and who he’d been in his previous life. The time was coming when I was going to start demanding answers to those questions. And I was starting to realize that the time for that was going to be soon.

  Because I didn’t think we could go much further until I knew exactly what Marlon knew. And how we could use it.

  We let the people sit and eat some breakfast before we started them on the march—with the appropriate precautions of lookouts around the entire group. Randall might not believe in having people watch out for the borders of the town, but I knew we couldn’t run that risk. We were in the middle of the forest, and couldn’t tell what might show up.

  It might be Randall and some of his goons. Or it might be bears, wolves, or—if we were really unlucky—cougars. So yeah, we couldn’t afford to let our guards down. Not for one minute.

  I sent five of the men into the woods with guns and protein bars, and then turned toward the crowd left in the forest. Many of them were women and children, though there were men scattered around here and there in the group. Most of the men had gathered naturally around the edges, their eyes on the forest, their hands tense on their weapons.

  It was amazing how little time it took for them to revert back to what I considered to be their natural instincts for protecting their people. These men weren’t military men. Hell, they weren’t even law enforcement. But since I woke up in the forest, I’d been noticing them going out of their way to help the weaker in the group, to make sure that everyone had enough to eat and was keeping up with the rest of the townspeople. If men were attached to families, then they were naturally more concerned with the members of their immediate group, but even the single men had taken to picking up children when necessary and helping women who were struggling with packs that were too heavy for them.