Dead To Rights_HZA, Vol. 4

by Marty Brockschmidt

  “Go ahead.” Tim replied.

  “Campgrounds are about ten minutes away now, there should be a sign. Pull over and hopefully we can find a trail.” Tom radioed back.

  “You got it.” Tim turned to Red and Lizzie. “Keep a look out for a sign, ladies.”

  Lizzie saw the sign first. “There it is!” She shouted. Gatlinburg Cabins and Campgrounds it read, in big blue letters. The large sign, now partially covered by overgrown trees, jutted out over the highway, clearly visible , a quarter mile away.

  “Tom, we’re coming up on it now, over.” Tim radioed

  “I see it, pullover up ahead, Jeff and Pete, you get that, over?”

  “Right behind you, over.” Jeff’s voice could be heard loud and clear.

  “We’re with you, over.” Pete replied.

  “Everyone stay in your vehicles, over.” Tim radioed.

  Red and Tim, walked Lizzie back to Tom’s car. “We’re gonna check it out, see what it looks like.” Lizzie got in the car, with a comforting wink from Red.

  “Don’t take any chances.” Tom implored.

  “Head on a swivel and Red’s got my six.” Tim replied.

  Tracey got out of the car, joining Tim and Red. “And I got her back.”

  The Gatlinburg campground was positioned to take in the beauty and grandeur of the Smoky Mountains. The entrance to the campground had a simple checkpoint, with a small guardhouse, so campers registration and parking permits could be verified. The simple lift gates to control entrance and exit, had long since been broken off.

  Jeff took a position in the guardhouse, as the other three proceeded down the lane. Shortly after entering, the road forked, the left fork leading to campsites for tents, trailers and RV’s, the right fork, heading uphill to the cabins. It quickly became obvious, that someone had taken defensive action on the road, placing cars and trucks, with tires flattened, spaced so that any vehicle that came in, would have to slowly weave back and forth.

  “Somebody’s been here.” Red whispered.

  Tim nodded. “Question is, are they here still?”

  The drive ended in a cul-de-sac, a half dozen log cabins at the back end of the circle. A perimeter was set up, with pointed sticks surrounding the cabins. The effectiveness against zeds proven, by the two creatures impaled on the sticks. The lower windows of all the cabins, had been shuttered with scrap wood. Openings had been strategically placed to allow a view outside, or to shoot through.

  Using the cover of the pickup, parked nearest the cul-de-sac, the three observed the cabins and the mountain, rising majestically behind them. “They look deserted.” Tim suggested.

  “There is only one way to find out, we got to go in.” Red responded.

  “Tracey and I will go up, you keep us covered from here.” Tim directed.

  Red gave him a thumbs up and rested her barrel on the back of the pickup, nearest the cab. Tim and Tracey, kept low and cautiously approached the nearest cabin. Using an often practiced routine, the pair quickly determined the cabins were both empty and secure.

  Once done with the last cabin, Tim waved Red over and pulled the walkie off his belt. “All clear, bring em up.”

  It took a few minutes to weave all their vehicles up the drive, the big U- Haul, finding some of the gaps particularly tight. Tom had everyone else stay in the vehicles and went to speak with Tim. “You’re sure about this? I mean, somebody had to set all this up.”

  “There is not a lick of their belongings, left behind. Whomever did this, has moved on. We should consider ourselves lucky. These cabins, got a good view of the road up. There is a solid perimeter to keep out the zeds. The only weakness, is the mountain behind us, but somebody would have to make a make a heck of a climb and then all they could do, is take potshots at the back of the cabins.” Tim stated.

  “Still, it’s kind of creepy, them just gone without a trace.” Tom replied.

  Tim shrugged. “We’ve spent months, not sticking in any one place to long, not surprising others are following the same routine.”

  The cabins were small, just a main room, kitchenette, loft and bedroom. They divided themselves between the two, end cabins. Tim established a watch rotation, that kept someone in each of the two lofts and a third, patrolling inside the perimeter at all times.

  Red, Pete, Sam and the four younger children, settled into one cabin and the rest of the group, settled into the other. The main room had a pullout couch, that the four children squeezed onto, while Pete and Sam, shared the bedroom. Red bedded on the floor, but wasn’t surprised to find Lizzie, curled up next to her, wrapped in her jacket, when she went out patrolling the next morning.

  Chapter 2 - Turk

  Red couldn't bring herself to wake Lizzie, by retrieving her jacket. Instead, she put on her heaviest shirt from her bag and belted her holster tight, around it. She slipped her rifle over her shoulder, clipped the walkie from Sam, onto her belt and quietly slipped out the door.

  The sun was fully up, but hadn't yet burned away the mornings chill. Red flexed her arms and shoulders to get her blood moving and slowly started the circuit around the perimeter. She would stop occasionally and scan the horizon, through her binoculars.

  When she reached the far side of the last cabin, a small carving in the log siding, caught her attention. A heart shaped etching, surrounded the initials WB + EC. Red smiled at the thought, in all this turmoil, a couple could still find a little romance. Looking at the carving, sunlight reflecting off of something on the ground, caused her to look down.

  Laying there, slightly obscured by loose soil, was a diary with a locking clasp. As Red bent to pick up the diary, a searing pain raked across her shoulder and the report of a rifle, came to her ear. Red flattened herself to the ground. Still clutching the diary, she began creeping forward on her toes and elbows. Her walkie chirped. “Red, Red, report back.”

  Red knew, she couldn’t stop moving forward, so she ignored the call and safely rounded the corner. Tom was out on the porch as Red came along, still crawling on her belly. Tom came down to help her, causing Red to call out a warning. “Tom stay back.”

  Tom hit the call button on his walkie. “Red is okay. Everyone keep your heads down, until we figure this out.”

  Tim joined Tom and Red on the porch and glanced around the corner, in the direction the shot came from. Suddenly, Tim raised his rifle. “Son of a bitch.”

  Tom looked past Tim's shoulder. “Hold on, let's see how this plays out.”

  Coming down the hillside was a man, completely dressed in camouflage clothing. Over one shoulder dangled a body, his other hand was raised, high holding up a rifle. Tom pressed the call button on his walkie. “We need eyes all around...now.”

  It took several minutes for the man, to get within shouting distance. “I want y'all to know, I got no connection to this boy and I have no idea why, he was shooting at your woman there.”

  Red and Tom moved over to disarm the man, Red keeping her pistol trained on him, as Tom confronted the man. The man held the rifle out to Tom and let Tom remove his pistols and knives. “Y'all mind if I set the boy down? I rang his bell to stop him and he's starting to get heavy.”

  “Go ahead, keep it nice and easy.” Tom instructed.

  Red kept her pistol on the man, as he squatted down and gently laid the boy down. Tom did a quick check of the boy, assuring himself, he was alive and breathing. The boy was in his late teens, but probably younger than Tracey. He could use a haircut and his face had a youthful scruff of a beard. He was dressed in well worn jeans and a fleece jacket.

  The man standing over him, was easily as tall as Tom. His brown hair was long, but not unkempt. He was obviously fit, even after walking so far down hill carrying the boy, he was not out of breath. The man had deep brown eyes, staring at Red straight in the face. She had gotten so used to men scanning her body, it spoke to the respect he showed her, not to ogle her body.

  “My Pa named me Terrence Reginald Krenshaw, but I've always been Turk to my frie
nds. I was camped on the other side of the ridge and was searching the hillside, looking to replenish my stock of medicinal herbs. I caught sight of your woman, keeping watch and was hoping, you were a group that still held on to some basic values. I caught sight of the boy too late to stop him from firing, I was able to get down to him, before he could get you back in his sights again Ma'am.” Turk stated, never wavering his gaze from Red.

  Tom stared at the man standing in front of him and then at the unconscious boy, laying on the ground. On the face of it, the man appeared to be forthcoming. Though after the Inferno crew, Tom didn't like the idea of anyone following them. The boy was a complete mystery, what cause did he have to start shooting at them.

  "Mister, this is a lot to take in and we have come across so many unfriendly people, it is hard to know who to trust."

  "I can't fault you there Cuz, but I've been straight up about who I am and what brought me here. I thought I could handle being alone, but the conversation has gotten a might dull as of late." Turk replied.

  While the two men were sizing each other up, Red ignored the pain in her shoulder and began thumbing through the diary, she had found.

  "Tom, I think I can shed some light on things" Red exclaimed.

  "Okay, please do." Tom responded.

  Red nodded. "I've been going through this diary I found, it belonged to a girl named Emma. There is a picture stuck in here of, what I assume, is her and this young man. She identifies him as Will Bartlett. They were youth counselors, for a youth ministry camp. When the outbreak occurred, the adult counselors kept them moving and alive. Looks like a month ago, they came here to Gatlinburg. They were the ones that blocked off the streets and took up residence in the cabins. Just as they got settled, a group of men showed up led by a man with red hair, she identifies as Cain. The men pressured the adults to join them and when they refused, Cain killed them. Her last entry talks about the men, taking her and the children away. She doesn't talk about why Will wasn't with them and I can't tell you if she left the diary on purpose, or by accident."

  “Might I suggest, we wait for the boy to wake up and hear his side. In the meantime ma'am, you seem to be favorin the one side a bit, are you ok?” Turk asked.

  “I think that shot clipped me, I'm sure I'll be fine.” Red replied.

  Turk tilted his head and looked at her, with a no nonsense expression. “Just the same, I'd like to take a look at it, you don't want nothin festrerin up on ya.”

  “Go ahead, just leave your weapons where they are.” Tom allowed.

  “You got grazed sure enough, probbly smarts a bit more than your lettin on though. I got some pine sap in my kit here. Up in the hills, we always keep some on hand, it costs less than store bought ointments and works twice as good. This may sting a might.” Turk warned.

  Red tried hard not to wince, as Turk applied the sticky goo to her shoulder, but he was right, it did sting.

  Turk lightly patted Red's shoulder. “There you be, if y'all got a clean cloth to bandage it with that wouldn't hurt, but the sap will stay put pretty well on its own. Your strap there's been cut by the bullet. I'm sorry ma'am but, I ain't got nuthin to patch that up.”

  Red turned to face Turk. "Thank you, it is starting to feel better. Don't worry about my bra, I'll figure it out.”

  Turk was hoping for a longer conversation, but those hopes were dashed as the young man began to come to.

  Emma Carlyle had a crush on Will Bartlett, ever since first grade. She had gotten pushed down in the playground and skinned her knee. Will was a second grader and normally wouldn't be caught dead, associating with someone in the first grade. Emma's cries were too much for him and scooping her up best as he could and half carried and half dragged her to the nurse's office.

  While they waited at the nurses office, Will found her a tissue to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. When the nurse finally came, Will was excused to go back to class, but not without Emma giving him a quick hug.

  From then on, Emma did whatever she could to get Will's attention, but he seemed determined to ignore her. The year Will entered high school, was hard on Emma. She constantly worried, that some other girl would catch him. By the time Emma entered high school, she had blossomed into a pretty young woman, with curly auburn hair and doe like brown eyes. She had caught the eye of more than one young man, but she was only interested in Will. When she saw him walking down the hall, she let herself casually bump into him, dropping her books.

  As he helped her pick them up, she said. "I don't suppose you remember me, I'm little Emma Carlyle."

  Will took in the young woman in front of him. "Uhh not so little anymore, do you need help finding your class?"

  Emma knew very well, where her class was. "Oh, could you help me. I'm sure I'll figure it out in time, but its just so new."

  From then on, things seemed to improve. Sharing the same lunch period, they always ate their lunch together. They went to the same church and more often than not, participated in the same church activities. It wasn't exactly dating, but they were together. When Emma saw that Will had signed up as a junior counselor for a youth ministry campout, she was quick to add her name to the list.

  The campout was harder than she expected. They were in a fairly isolated spot and their days were spent on service projects, or in the outdoor chapel. At night, she had to share a tent with the six young girls. The adult chaperones, took the only cabin.

  The last night of the campout, things got really bad. Emma woke to screams and in the pale moonlight, saw what appeared to be, people feeding on the little girls. Emma scrambled out of her sleeping bag and only managed to get young Margo Stiles, out with her. Will and one of the boys from his tent, Prescott Kennedy, were out of the boys tent and they pounded on the cabin door.

  As quick as they could, they frantically explained what they saw. One of the men, Frank Tuttle scoffed. "Nonsense, probably all just a bad dream"

  Frank went outside, everyone watched in horror from the windows, as the people tore into Frank. They barricaded themselves in the cabin for three days, until finally the creatures left. When they looked into the tents, they found a couple of the children so chewed up, that they could hardly move. Yet their eyes were still moving and their jaws chomped at the site of a fresh meal.

  In frustration, Bob Morgan grabbed a rock and smashed in the little heads, until they quit moving. The next several months, they did what they could to survive, finding clothes, food and weapons where they could. It never seemed like they could hole up long though. Those walking dead things, always seemed to come and push them along.

  They thought they had found a place to hole up, in the cabins at Gatlinburg. They had closed off the streets and cleaned out any of the dead, they found. The salvage was good and Will had become adept at hunting. Then those four men showed up and kept pressing the adults to join them. They told them the Mother would show them the way to salvation and keep them from joining the fallen.

  They kept refusing and their leader Cain, a big man with red hair, lined them up and began shooting them in the back as they each, in turn, again refused his offer. Fortunately, Will was off hunting, the men took Emma, Margo and Prescott. Emma dropped her diary, hoping Will would find it and figure out, what little clues she could leave him.

  Before heading back, they were frantic to find more people to press into their fold. They would camp at night with the fallen staked around their perimeter. The four men taking turns on watch.

  A dirty little man, called Bub, always kept an eye on Emma. When Emma and the two children were moved in and out the vehicle, Bub was right there, putting his hands on her, stroking her leg, touching her hair, running a hand down her back.

  One night, Emma woke to the feel of the cold steel of a knife, against her throat and a dirty palm pressed against her mouth. Bub's fetid breath filled her nostrils as he whispered. "Not a sound bitch, or you'll join the fallen."

  Bub led Emma out beyond the perimeter, where the fallen they traveled with we
re tethered. Finding a small clearing, Bub forced Emma to lay down. Kicking her legs apart, Bub knelt between her knees and lowered himself on to her and pressed himself close. Bub pushed her arms above her head and growled. “Don't move”

  Every fiber of Emma's being, was revolted by the dirty little man. She contemplated crying out, but who would look after Margo and Prescott, if Bub killed her. Bub stabbed his knife in the ground, away from Emma's reach.

  “Please don't do this.” Emma pleaded.

  Bub snorted. “Sweetheart, you are way to fine for me, to keep ignorin you.”

  Bub grabbed a handful of her hair and ran his fingers through her curly locks. Slipping his hand behind her head, he gave her a rough kiss. Emma spat out the chunks of chewing tobacco, he had forced into her mouth.

  “What's the matter girlie, don't you like Bub?”