by TW Brown
As luck would have it, it was not his daughters in any form. A rabbit made a meek series of hops until it was out in the clear. Juan looked at the animal, its nose twitching and eyes trying to scan everything at once for any sign of a predator. After a moment, a second rabbit joined the first and the two made a hopping scamper for the lush green shoots of Gerald’s garden.
Juan sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. A moment later, there was a louder commotion from the woods. Juan barely had time to register that the rabbits had taken off in response to the new and sudden noise. Another tremendous crash came, and the dense woods seemed to rip open and give birth to a moose!
The creature was easily a foot taller than Juan if Juan had been standing. From his knees, the animal looked even more massive. It snorted once and pawed at the ground with a mighty hoof before its head swung so that it could look over its shoulder.
Juan knew what fear looked like in an animal. He’d seen it before when he managed to bring down a deer but the pathetic thing had been wounded but still alive, unable to flee, and thus, helpless as he stood over it with his knife. He remembered hesitating to finish the job. Keith had been on hand and had to nudge him, reminding him that he was only making the poor thing suffer.
After Juan had slit the deer’s throat, he’d gone about the normal routine of field stripping it and bringing it back to camp. However, he’d never been able to take a bite of the meat from that kill. Something about it had seemed too personal.
His eyes scanned the moose for any sign of injury. He didn’t see anything. That was a relief as well as a bit unsettling. A few seconds later, the huge beast took off in an awkward but deliberate run. Thankfully, it was running at an angle away from him, because Juan doubted his ability to get out of the way in time had things been different.
Then his troubles grew exponentially. There was that single moment of silence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. And then, there was a crash as the woods right by where the moose had emerged a moment ago just seemed to fold down flat.
“Holy crap,” Juan breathed.
***
“So you are saying that some group of crazies is outfitting the stench bags with noisemakers and then somehow herding them to someplace where they just march into the water and come up on the shores of your little island paradise?” Paddy sat on a log with his feet dangling in the air.
When he had in fact pulled out a small corn cob pipe and lit it up, Vix had reached her limit. “Oh, come on!” she exclaimed. “You can’t really be doing this. Is this on purpose? Are you toying with me?”
“What on earth could you be meanin’ there, lassie?” Paddy’s lips curled up in an impish smile, his eyes glittering with mirth and mischief.
Using her arms in a head-to-toe gesture; she had indicated the man’s garb and striking resemblance to every cartoon leprechaun she’d ever seen. “You look like you just fell out of a child’s box of cereal.”
“You wouldn’t be meanin’ the frosted oat variety with sweet surprises, now would you?”
“Alright, cut that out!”
There was a moment of silence, and Vix felt the giant introduced as Seamus take a step closer. She felt her mouth go dry. She was about to die because she’d offended an Irishman who refused to accept that he was dressed like a caricature.
“You have to let her off the hook now, Paddy,” a deep voice that sounded like gravel being crushed spoke from behind her.
“Okay. When you are right, you are right. But I believe that I have now paid my losing bet and we are square.” Paddy still had the Irish lilt, but he ripped the hat off and glared at the thing before tossing it into the tall grass. “Now, back to this very interesting tale you have shared about some sort of zombie apocalypse version of The Pied Piper. You say that they are attaching noise makers to some of the beasts and then somehow luring them to the ends of England where they are willingly walking into the sea, only to come ashore at your little island settlement?”
Vix nodded.
“I would be willing to bet that it is Dolph and his gang of criminals,” Seamus muttered and then spat as if he’d just tasted something foul.
“Dolph has been making quite a name for himself the past few years,” Paddy said when Vix simply looked from one man to the other with a blank expression. “He and his band of miscreants came across the channel from France as best anybody can tell. Apparently he has organized some sort of make-believe Nazi thing and has been making a point of finishing what that idiot Hitler failed to do. He has been leading what his broadcasts claim as the New Blitzkrieg in his quest to conquer Great Britain.”
“Wait!” Vix held up a hand. “Did you say broadcasts?”
“Oh yes, he has managed to power up a transmitter and everything. He has his army—or whatever they call themselves—slip in close to populated settlements and mount these horrendous PA systems. The poor bastards wake to Ride of the Valkyries, and then they get the German, French, and finally the English translation of his rousing speech, most of which he very blatantly stole from the original German lunatic, Adolph Hitler.”
Vix was at a loss for words. She looked from one man to the other. Each simply stared back at her and smiled.
“This is another joke. Which one of you lost the bet that has you saying this?” she finally asked, breaking her silence after what felt like forever.
“Sadly, this is not one of our little wagers,” Paddy replied.
“And is nobody doing anything to stop this guy?”
“I think your little tale of zombies with noise makers actually answers the very question we have been asking for quite some time. You see, nobody has survived to tell the tale of how he has conquered everything in his path. There were rumors of course, but who wants to believe that somebody would mobilize an army of the undead?”
“We have to tell Mike,” Seamus said, rising to his feet. “Would you be kind enough to join us and let our commander know everything that you have shared with us?”
“Do I really have a choice?” Vix asked.
“Actually,” Paddy hopped off the log and scrubbed his hands together to clean them off, “you are more than free to go. We are not the sort to take people prisoner. However, I do believe that it would be a benefit to us, your people, as well as any other settlements that might yet remain if we were to perhaps do something to put a stop to this lunatic once and for all.”
Vix had to admit, going it alone was not likely to yield her much results. Also, now that she knew more about the possible enemy, she was more than certain that she would need all the help she could find. Besides, the people of New England had grown soft in her opinion. They had become too reliant on their island as the primary source of their protection. They were ripe for the picking for somebody like this Dolph person.
“I’ll come with you,” Vix finally agreed.
“That would be splendid,” Paddy said with a clap of his hands. “And would your hidden friend like to join us? Or do you plan to leave her behind?”
As if that were a cue, three more men emerged from the tall grass. Each of them wore a variety of blades and held some rather exquisite looking bows in their hand. Also emerging with a gag tied around her mouth was Chaaya.
***
Luck was certainly with Chad. He hit the water and stopped just shy of the river bed, the force of his body impacting with the churning surface almost knocking the wind from him. A second later, he brushed past the giant rock that he had missed by inches. As he emerged, he coughed and sputtered, his body still dealing with the shock of the icy waters, but his lungs needing to be free of liquid overriding everything at the moment.
Chad spun, his neck craning up to the ledge that he’d just thrown himself from a few seconds ago. Two people on horseback arrived just as he went around a small bend in the stream. Once he was out of sight, he made for the shore. It was a bit more difficult than he expected, and by the time he was able to stand up and walk, he was panting like he’d just finis
hed a mile long sprint.
Taking a quick personal inventory, Chad was not surprised that the only weapon he still possessed was a belt knife. He was going to have to proceed with extreme caution. He knew that there were a large number of zombies to be wary of; but those did not hold a candle to these mysterious people that had come from out of nowhere.
Moving into the tall ferns and dense undergrowth of a forest allowed to reclaim the land unhindered, Chad made it a point to stay quiet. He moved in small bursts. The moment he even thought that he heard something, he froze and held his breath.
He had been on the move in what he was almost certain had to be the general direction of home, Chad eventually reached the old interstate. He had to work his way down a little slash between two sheer and rocky slopes to actually reach the edge of where the road carved its way north and south. At this very moment, the interstate seemed a thousand miles wide. There would be absolutely no cover.
Peeking up from his location, Chad could not see any signs of the horsemen. He also did not see any of the undead. Actually, at the moment, he would welcome a zombie…hell, even a herd would be okay. Zombies were just not that scary any longer. They were easy to distract and seldom a cause of death these days.
Deciding that he did not want to just stay here until he was discovered, Chad finally rose to a crouch. Despite the fact that it would probably be an exercise in futility, he unsnapped the little leather strap and pulled his knife from its sheath.
Taking one more look in both directions, Chad steadied his breath and mentally gave himself a ‘Ready…set…go!’ command. Taking off at a sprint, Chad was at the concrete divider in short order. He threw a leg over and landed awkwardly as he made the mistake of looking back over his shoulder instead of where he put his feet.
Landing hard, Chad felt his chin bounce off the pavement. The pain and warmth were instant and he had no doubt that he’d busted himself open. Scrambling to his feet, he fully expected to see his hunters emerge and turn towards him in pursuit.
Nothing.
Chad took off again. This time, it was like that ‘running in sand’ nightmare where you ran as fast as you could and made no progress. And then he was on the other side and diving down into the dense and welcome growth of the tall grass. He stayed in a crouch until he reached the woods. Once he felt safe enough, he slowed to a walk. As the adrenaline began to ebb, he could feel pain just about everywhere in his body. His ankle felt like it was in bad shape, his boot beginning to feel like it was constricting any blood flow to his right foot, and his thigh was on fire.
He continued to move with caution. It was quite possible that whoever these people were, they had returned to wherever they came from. It was just as likely that they knew where he would be headed and move to intercept him before he could warn everybody of this new danger.
He glanced over his shoulder more than once the rest of the way until he could see the walls that signaled his safety. When he reached the massive and open clearing that was strictly and very well maintained, Chad began to wave his arms above his head in an obvious sign of distress and danger to get the attention of the tower and gate guards.
He had only covered half the distance when the closest set of gates opened and a team of five horses came out at a full gallop. Chad stopped walking and let them close the remaining distance. As they approached he could see that they were searching the tree line past him for any signs of danger.
The leader yanked back on the reins and came to a stop. The others stopped just beyond and the riders were obviously looking for trouble.
“Thank goodness another one of you made it,” the man (Chad was almost certain that his name was Marcus) said with obvious relief.
“What do you mean?” Chad asked. “I know I got hit and the riders who came to divert the herd of zombies rode into an ambush, but—”
“Two other mounted patrols were hit and only three of our twenty rovers have returned…counting you,” Marcus explained.
Chad was pulled up onto the back of one of the horses and they returned to the relative safety of their walled community. As they did, Chad had to wonder if there was anyplace left in the world that might be safe.
***
“Who the hell are you?” Jody asked, climbing to his feet, but maintaining a wary posture.
The man across from him was not incredibly imposing. He seemed average height, and his mop of curly, sandy colored hair was a filthy mess. He wore wire-framed glasses without any lenses, and his eyes were sort of a muddy brown. If Jody passed this guy on the street, he would forget him almost instantly (except for the wire-framed glasses, maybe).
“My name is Gable Matczak. I met your friend Tracy. Tracy Sasser I think was his name? We can talk later about your choice in squad members.” The man shot a glance down at the dead body lying a few feet away. “We don’t have time right now, you still got a couple of these folks lurking.”
Almost on cue, a man let out a yell and dove from the top of the RV. Gable side-stepped with an incredible elegance and the would-be attacker landed gracelessly on the ground. Gable stepped in just as quick and dug his booted heel down into the back of the neck of the man. There was only a moment of struggle before an audible ‘crack’ ended it.
“You go that way, I’ll go this way,” Gable whispered, pointing out the way he wanted Jody to go.
“B-b-but—” Jody stammered.
“No time! Later!” the man barked as he took off at a fast trot. And with that, Gable was gone.
Jody turned and headed for the corner of the last RV. He heard running footsteps and halted, ducking low. A person could get a knife in the chest catching somebody by surprise. Getting low almost guaranteed that any reflexive action would catch nothing but air.
Sure enough, the person rounded the corner almost at a run. They almost collided with Jody and ended up on their back as they tried to leap backwards and escape. A large knife swished through the air a good few inches above Jody’s head.
A second later, Jody was up and on the man. He smashed the butt of his knife into the person’s head with the intent that maybe he could take one alive and get a few answers. The man’s eyes rolled back and Jody quickly searched the body for cuffs. He found them on a belt pouch and flipped his captive onto their stomach. He pulled the man’s arms around behind his back and slapped on the cuffs. As a secondary measure, he pulled off the belt the man was wearing and wrapped it around the head, cinching it tight as a gag.
Confident that this person was out of the game, he scrambled up and took off at a jog. He did not hear anything and was only slightly surprised when he passed one of the RVs and caught a glimpse of this Gable person getting to his feet. Another man was down; another neck had been snapped. Jody was no idiot; that took a degree of strength to pull off. Snapping a neck was not as easy as it looked in the movies.
“Where is the girl you were with?” Gable asked as he approached.
“Wait!” Jody hissed, holding his hands up. “I appreciate the fact that you more than likely just saved my ass. But I don’t know who you are or where you came from. Not to sound ungrateful, but I would not just tell you something like that.”
The man paused and seemed to consider Jody’s words. He pressed his lips tight and then gave a curt nod. “I understand where you are coming from, and if we had all day to shoot the shit, I could tell you all kinds of stories and give a proper introduction. As it is, I have no idea what you are doing here and could have just as easily killed you if not for seeing you take down a couple of these assholes. Somebody very dear to me is in that house and I plan on getting her out. We obviously have similar interests, or at least it seems that way. When we are done, we can exchange names and all that crap.”
Jody saw the man’s point. Time was of the essence. He had no idea what was going on in that house, but he had a pretty good idea that this guy could help him get his daughter out.
“They have my little girl in there,” Jody blurted.
“So
then you see how us standing here and wasting time with all this talking nonsense is a stupid thing.” Gable pushed past Jody and moved to the end of the RV where he could get a good look at the house.
“She is on the other side of the house,” Jody whispered, despite being far enough from the house that it was unlikely that anybody could hear if he spoke in a conversational voice. “There was one guy on a balcony. She was going to try and get close enough to take him down. She is a pretty good shot…and her name is Jan.”
“Fine,” Gable muttered, but Jody knew the man was paying him almost no attention. He was focused on the main entrance.
Suddenly, the front door opened and a figure stepped outside. Jody knew instantly who it was and felt like he had obviously missed something; otherwise, how could he explain the presence of Margarita?
“Hey, Jody?” she sing-songed. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”
***
Entry Thirty-six—
I am waiting. I am hunting.
When it comes right down to the cold, hard facts, it is not like I have anything else to do. Otherwise I probably would have quit doing this a long time ago.
As I sit here with my journal, I wonder if anybody ever reads the ones that I leave behind. I am sort of sneaky in that I usually go someplace where they have books and such for trade and then slip mine in amongst the others.
Guerrilla marketing at its finest.
I should also admit here that I don’t always catch my target. In fact, more have managed to elude me than I have captured. It is the nature of things. I do my best, but the reality is that, unless the person is actually pointed out to me on the spot, I have to search. People can fade into oblivion now. No more Amber Alerts to aid in these sorts of things. Also, and this is the part that I do struggle with from time to time, I am taking one side of a story and buying into it completely.
There was one guy who denied what he’d been accused of right up to the very end. He died with “I didn’t do it” on his lips. Maybe he was just made of stubborn stock. Or…maybe he was not lying.
