I found that funny. “And if I don’t?” I laughed. I could hear his friend trying to sneak up behind me. Anyone who had lived through Tripper waves could walk quieter than that, and it was confirming the hunch I had earlier.
“Well, then we might…”
I didn’t wait for his answer. I spun around, drawing my knife from its sheath and lunging it at the big man standing behind me. He actually had one arm raised and ready to strike. The blade stopped just above his Adam’s apple, and he froze in place. I grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him against the wall, keeping my knife where it was. A small trickle of crimson started leaking down his neck, and the big man swallowed carefully.
I looked at Ponytail. “You might what? Actually learn to sneak up on someone? Where I come from, making that much noise gets you killed,” I said angrily. I released the man and pushed him away from me. “Both of you walk ahead of me,” I said.
The two complied, with the big man rubbing his neck. We reached the parking lot and I pointed back the way we had come.
“Get lost that way,” I said. “I see you again, I’ll figure it’s self-defense and kill you both.”
Ponytail looked shocked. “Kill us? For trying to roll you? Where the hell are you from?”
I don’t know why I said it. I just wanted to get rid of these two. “I’m from Illinois. And I think I killed a Tripper with my blade either yesterday or the day before. I’m not sure.” I looked pointedly at the men. “Good luck.”
I don’t know what I expected, but two grown men screaming and running away wasn’t at the top of the list. They moved like the devil himself was about to bite them.
I shrugged and figured they didn’t get many out here. I checked my bearings and headed down the street again, searching for the library.
Chapter 7
Half an hour later, I was standing at the librarian’s desk. I had found the library twenty minutes ago, but I had spent the time just absorbing all the books. I found a western section that had several Louis L’Amour books I hadn’t read, and since they were dusty, I just put them in my backpack, figuring no one would miss them.
The librarian, a middle-aged woman of no distinguishing features, was clearly happy that someone had a question for her.
“You wanted to know if there were any books about the wall? Sure we have a few, but I don’t know if they will tell you much. The internet would be a better place to look, but our server is down until the tech guy comes in,” she said.
I had no clue about the internet, uncooperative servers, or things like tech guys, but the books sounded good. I realized suddenly that she was looking at me.
“Beg pardon?”
“I said, is this for a research paper?”
“Umm. Yeah. Big one,” I said. If it got me the information, I was happy to say yes to anything.
The librarian perked up even more. “Tell you what. You go sit over there at that table, and I will bring over the material we have for you to look at. It will be faster than you trying to find it for yourself.”
I sat at the table and just marveled at what I was seeing. I went over the things I had seen and watched people do. I had to find the answers. What happened sixteen years ago? What was the Tripp virus and why did they wall up Illinois? I didn’t know if I was going to find the answers, but maybe I could get some clarification.
The librarian came over to the table with several books and a number of newspapers. She explained that the newspapers were from sixteen years ago, and there was a lot of information in them, especially about the decision to build the wall. She warned me to be careful with the papers, as they were fragile and hadn’t been laminated yet.
I thanked her for her effort and I came up with a plan. I went back to the earliest I could find, and started there. It was fascinating reading, because I was seeing things from a perspective I had never been exposed to. Everyone I had ever met held the belief that they were the ones that were saved, that they were being preserved because the outbreak was the lightest in Illinois. What I was reading here was that Illinois was where the outbreak had started, and when it threatened to run out of control, the powers that be decided to close off the state and keep the infection to one place. They decided to create the illusion that the world had ended. The power was turned off, radio frequencies were jammed, and no planes were allowed to fly over except at night, and all their lights had to be turned off. The new forest was planted and anyone living within fifteen miles of the wall was evacuated to a new home
As I read further, the phrase that stuck out in my mind from my reading was “acceptable losses.” One military commander was quoted as saying that there were eleven million people in Illinois, while there were three hundred million people in the country. That amounted to less than three percent of the population, which was an acceptable loss in terms of warfare.
I read some more articles, and saw that the decision had been controversial. There was one editorial blasting the decision as murder of American citizens, while another article spoke of the “greater good.”
I read how they built the wall, flying in sections as soon as they could be made. Concrete companies worked overtime to get the pieces assembled, and the military flew them in. Once the wall was built, the rest of the world heaved a sigh of relief. There were the usual cries of foul, but they were quieted in the guise of the sake of humanity.
As I explored further, I noticed the tone of the articles getting darker. There was no more talk of hoping for survivors, but rather people getting what they deserved. Chicago had been a rotten hell-hole for years, with a murder rate higher than most third-world dictatorships. Who cared what happened there?
It was then I saw the article on the Route 41 massacre. Forty-seven men, women, and children had made it over the wall. They were running from the nightmare when the military caught them. Rather than run the risk of more people trying to escape, the army killed them all. That was when they began the patrols of the wall, and they built the secondary fence.
At the ten-year mark, there was some articles that wondered about survivors, and whether or not the Tripp Virus was still active. A little further reading revealed that the uncovered plan of the government was to go in at the twenty-year mark and see if there was a state to be reclaimed. I wondered if any survivors left at that point would be removed as well.
As I closed up the articles and books, I was struck dumb by the enormity of what I had read, and what it meant for the people inside the wall. We didn’t have to live in fear anymore; we could get out. We could…
My thoughts died when I realized that there were forty-seven people resting in a mass grave who might have believed the same thing, right before their own government killed them.
I brought the materials back to the librarian right before the place was scheduled to close. I smiled and thanked her for her help, and she genuinely beamed to be able to do her job well.
Back outside, I walked for a bit, mostly in a daze. I looked around and saw that I needed to find a place to spend the night. I was exhausted and emotionally drained. I looked back the way I came and saw a bunch of flashing lights. I remembered what my father said about the police cars he used to drive, and figured there was something going on in the center of town. I didn’t want to be in town anymore, so I headed north. There was a single road in that direction, so I followed it. I had walked before, so I was used to this. I did have a fleeting desire to ride in a car just once, but I knew that was impossible.
Chapter 8
“Did you see anyone who might have seemed strange?” the tall stranger asked the waitress behind the counter.
“Strange in what way?” the waitress said. Her name was Silvia, and she was a little nervous about the four men who had come into the restaurant. They wore different clothing, but they were definitely from the same place. Their military haircuts couldn’t have advertised them any more if they had worn signs. The three men who weren’t talking were looking out the windows, and checking the streets. Th
ey gave off the distinct impression of being a pack of predators.
“Anything out of the ordinary?” Sergeant Townsend asked. He had been in charge of the recovery team for over three years, and in that time, he had run down several refugees from Illinois.
“Not really. There was a guy this morning that paid with a silver coin. That wasn’t usual, but it wasn’t the first time we had someone pay with that. Heck, we had a man two years ago pay his bill with an old record,” the waitress said.
Townsend shook his head. “What can you tell me about the man this morning?”
Silvia shrugged. “He was young, about eighteen or so. Wore a cowboy hat, but it worked on him, not like the wannabes around here who wouldn’t know a horse from an outhouse. Big kid, broad shoulders. Carried a satchel.”
Townsend nodded. “All right. Thanks. Did you happen to see which way he went?”
“He walked out the door and up the street. No idea where he went from there.”
Sergeant Townsend nodded to his men and the four went outside. He looked up and down the street, then addressed the men.
“Baker, you’re with me. Houston and Robbins, you head that way. If this guy is like the others, he should be pretty easy to spot,” Townsend said.
“Sir, I think this one might be different,” Corporal Baker said.
Townsend looked at Baker. He had worked with Baker in the past and knew Baker never said anything unless he had a reason.
“How so?”
“If this one is around eighteen, then he’s only known a world with Trippers. He’s a survivor, and might be harder to spot than the others,” Baker said.
“Noted. Which is why we need to find him fast and get him into custody. The longer he’s out here, the more danger he puts the rest of us in,” Townsend said. “Let’s move.”
Chapter 9
I reached the outskirts of town, past several car dealerships. I saw many homes out this way, but they were all occupied. I realized this was not going to be like Illinois where I stood a good chance of finding an abandoned house to spend the night it. On the other side of that coin, I could sleep out in the open and know there wasn’t any danger because all of the Trippers were on the other side of the very large wall.
I kept walking as the sun fell below the horizon, and the signs of civilization melted away the houses became fields and the streets became gravel roads. I barely noticed the miles behind me as my mind tried to deal with the enormity of what I had seen and what I had read. Everyone who was behind the walls had a chance at survival, at living a normal life, but they were kept as animals, forced to survive in a world with Trippers and without safety.
I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept walking. I knew only one thing, and that was to get back over the wall. I needed to get back to Kim, and I needed to tell her about what I had seen and what I had found out. This world was alien to me, and I wanted to go back to mine.
I stepped off the road and headed toward a grove of trees. Experience had taught me that small stands of trees usually meant that a farmhouse used to be there, and it would be a good place shielded from view. The foundation was still there of the farmhouse, and there was a depression in the ground where the cellar used to be. It was a good place to stay out the weather, so I gathered up a few small sticks and built a fire to keep warm. The glow from the flames didn’t reach any higher than the ground level, and the tall weeds and trees around took care of any casual glances. I stretched out, and with my head filled with conflicting thoughts, I eventually fell asleep.
Chapter 10
“And you didn’t think to ask for any ID or anything when you sold him the ammo?” Baker asked the pawn shop owner. They had spent the last couple of hours running around the town, looking for a tall teenager in a cowboy hat. In Indiana, there were more than a few of those bouncing around every small town from Gary to Evansville. In this town alone, there were a couple dozen, and each one had to be interviewed and removed from suspicion.
The bearded owner shrugged. “Didn’t get any bad vibes off him. He seemed like any other young man around here. He paid in bullion, which is a hell of a lot more stable than the dollar these days. Least I know I can move silver.”
Baker eyed the bearded man who returned his stare casually. The pawn shop owner had lived here his whole life, and had seen a lot of government types in and out, especially over the last fifteen years or so. There was a big ruckus back when the virus first broke out and later when the wall was built, but it had been quiet since then.
Baker shook his head. “This kid needs to be found. Did you see where he went?”
“Nope. When he walked out that door, he turned right. After that, I really didn’t care which way he went.”
“If he comes back, call me.” Corporal Baker handed the owner a small card and went back outside where Sergeant Townsend was talking to a local policeman. They wrapped up their conversation just as Baker approached.
“What have you got?” Townsend asked.
“Kid was there, bought some ammo with some silver and headed out. Also bought some camping supplies. Backpack, paracord, lantern, stuff like that,” Baker said. “I gave the owner a little heat for selling the kid ammo, but there was nothing to be done for it now.”
“What kind of ammo?” Townsend asked. If they knew what kind of guns they were going up against, they might have a better idea on how to deal with the runner.
“.45 Colt. Sounds like the kid may have an old revolver, maybe a rifle stashed somewhere.”
Townsend nodded. “All right, fair enough. Police here have a report of two men who claimed they were jumped by a young man matching our description. They said he pulled a knife and told them he was from Illinois and hadn’t cleaned his knife after killing a Tripper with it. The pair are a couple of petty criminals here in town and no one really pays much attention to them.”
“Wow. So this kid not only beat them at their own game, but nearly took them out for good,” Baker said. “Sounds like he’s a lot more on the ball than our usual runner, and he’s got some skills as well. We may want to reassess capture and focus on neutralization, sir.”
Townsend nodded. “Nothing is ever easy anymore. They said they were jumped near a condo community back that way.” He paused and pointed east. “So let’s get the others in and head that way. I don’t want to kill just yet.”
The two men went in the direction of the library, while Baker called for the other members of the team to meet them there. Townsend wondered the whole way there why the little son of a bitch went to the library.
Half an hour later, he listened in disbelief as the librarian related in hushed tones the materials she had found for him.
“Such a polite young man. His mother should be proud of the way he turned out. Good looking, boy, too. Break a few hearts before he’s settled in, I’m sure. If I was a young lady, he’d turn my eye, that’s for sure,” the woman gushed.
“Thank you very much. That’s very helpful,” Townsend said. He didn’t bother to read the material; he’d seen it before. He was there when the order came to open fire on the escapees from Illinois back in the day. It was necessary then, and it was necessary now that he find that runner. With the information the kid now had, he was even more dangerous than an outbreak of Trippers.
Outside the team reassembled, with Townsend taking the lead.
“So what we have here is a runner who bothered to figure out what really happened to Illinois. He knows about the Route 41 shooting, and he knows the truth about the wall,” Townsend said. “Let me hear scenarios.”
Corporal Baker spoke first. “Sir, if he’s a survivor, and he knows the truth, then he’s got one option. Get as far away from here as he can. My guess is he’s going to head east or north as fast as he can.”
“Why north?” Townsend asked. He hadn’t considered that one before.
“Get to Canada, get out of the country.”
Townsend considered that. “Might be. Anyone else?”
&nb
sp; Corporal Robbins spoke up. “Sir, I’d bet on east. Runner just wanting to get as far away from the wall as he can. East will take him that way.”
Townsend nodded. He was inclined to agree, but he wanted to hear all options. These men had been with him for over a year, and they were hunters, all of them.
Private Houston spoke up. “Sir? I have to agree with Corporal Baker. This one seems different. I’ve hunted two runners, and they all just seemed to go nuts the minute they saw the world hadn’t ended. This one blended in, didn’t raise too much attention, and now he’s drifted. I’d say if we don’t get him within the next forty-eight hours, we’ll never get him. He’ll blend and the only way we’ll know he’s alive is when he decides to post himself on the internet. Remember Chicago Joe? That took months to discredit, and that damn fool was from Richmond.”
“All right,” Townsend said. “Let’s get going. Spread out, take the roads. Check all the houses. Baker, get the aviary on the phone and get all the birds in the air. We need eyes up and we need them now.”
Baker nodded, reaching for his phone. “We alert local?”
Townsend considered that. “No, we need to keep this to ourselves for the next thirty-six hours. After that, we broadcast. Let’s go.”
Chapter 11
I woke as the sun broke over the horizon, washing the landscape in bright yellow light. I made a small breakfast, and as I ate, I rearranged my backpack and satchel. I slung my gun belt back around my hips and checked the loads in my Colt. I replaced the older ones with the new ones I had bought from the pawn shop. I wasn’t going to go to any more towns. I decided I didn’t want any part of this civilization. They had turned their backs on us, left us to die behind a wall, lied to us, and made us suffer for survival with Trippers breathing down our necks the whole time.
Born In The Apocalypse (Book 3): Jericho Page 3
