Thorton looked over at Tamikara. “Sounds like a real bad-ass.” he chuckled.
The kid spoke up. “You have no idea. He could easily take anyone you have to offer and the crew he runs with are first rate killers.”
Ken’s pride took a hit. “I imagine I could deal with him if I had to.”
“Pray you never have to. He and his crew ran through my gang like we weren’t even there. If it wasn’t for the fact he was in a hurry, he probably would have killed us all.”
“Why was he in a hurry? What is his name?” Tamikara asked, intrigued by this mystery man.
The kid looked them both in the eyes. “His name is John Talon and he was in a rush to stop you.”
“What are you talking about?” growled Thorton.
“John knows what you are trying to do. One of your prisoners escaped last winter and made it to where John has his home. He talked to John and John went and talked to the community he set up and they decided he and his crew should try and stop you.” The kid was talking freely now, seeing his friend still slumped over at the tree.
“Stop us from doing what?” The major was concerned now, hearing that a prisoner had escaped so long ago.
“Taking the Constitution,” came the reply.
The admission was like an icy punch in the gut. If someone knew what he was doing, he was going to have to step up his plans, especially if it came to a race to the capital with a very capable individual. If this person was allowed to talk to other communities, it would take some force to bring them into line. He was going to have to be creative.
A notion occurred to Ken and the more he mulled it over, the better he liked it. He turned his attention back to the kid.
“You said John went to the community he had started. He doesn’t live there?” Ken asked.
“No,” the youth answered. “He and his friends found a place in Utica, on the river. Place called Starved Rock. His wife and his kid live there. “Rumor has it he managed to save his son from the Upheaval and kept him alive through everything else. His first wife died and his second is one he met when he had saved a bunch of people in a school or something.”
Ken smiled. Too perfect, he thought. Exactly the motivation to come home. He looked over at Tamikara and smiled. “Better and better. Two problems solved.”
Ted looked curious but kept his attention on the kid. He wasn’t sure what was going on in Ken’s mind, but he was sure he was not going to like it.
“How did you get here? Your car stopped working, I believe you friend said.”
The kid’s eyes flickered to his still unconscious friend tied to the tree. “We hit the river and managed to find a boat. We were working our way down river and had just loaded up on fuel and supplies when we ran into you.”
“Lucky me,” said Thorton, meaning every word. “By the way, we never got your name.”
“Dan. Dan Winters.”
“Well, Dan. You’ve been much more helpful than your friend, although I am curious as to why you seem to be choosing to sell out your so-called savior and friend.” The Major said.
“He’s not my friend, but I respect what he’s been able to do. Fact is, we were going to try and head back to see if we could rejoin the community,” Dan said, starting to regret what he had spilled so far.
“Well, we’ll see about that. You have given me a lot of useful information, especially on how to deal with your benefactor and I am grateful to hear of where he lives and all, but I do have a concern over your loyalties. I will need to talk to my—HEY!” Thorton yelled as the coffee table suddenly flew up into his and Ted’s faces.
Winters wasted no time. When he realized he had spoken too much to avoid the same fate as his friend, he came to the conclusion he had just condemned John and his family to these renegades. When the Major’s attention was low, he had flipped the table up and bolted out the door, slipping around the corner and running flat out for the woods. The soldiers holding his friend had no time to react as he ran past and dove into the trees.
Thorton and Tamikara ran from the building and quickly looked around. Ted spoke first to the soldiers.
“Find him! Eliminate him! Go!” he shouted. The men ran off, leaving the two who were guarding the prisoner.
Thorton addressed them. “Take him down to the river and up the road until you spot a zombie. Cut his tendons and leave him to get eaten. Go.”
The men nodded and cut down the groggy prisoner, dumping him into the back of the truck and driving off on their deadly mission.
Tamikara and Thorton listened to the sounds of pursuit as they watched the truck pull away. The major spoke first.
“We need to talk about how this harms us. Let’s get back to the lodge,” he said.
Tamikara nodded. “What about the men?”
Ken waved a hand dismissively. “They know to come back successful or not at all. That kid’s a dead man. Besides, they know where the lodge is and I don’t feel like waiting.”
The two climbed back aboard the truck and lumbered away, forgetting about Private Ransom, who was about to stumble on some very interesting information.
Back at the lodge, Ken talked to Ted privately.
“I want you to take ten men and head north. I want you to find this ‘Starved Rock’ and kill everyone there. From there, I want you to head to this community Dan was talking about. Take over and wait for me to get back from DC. From what I have heard, this sounds almost too good to be true.” Ken settled into a chair at a table in the main room. He kept his right hand in his lap, near his holster, unsure of what his captain might do in response.
Tamikara considered it and realized there was an opportunity for him to supplant Thorton once and for all. Let the fool go after the Constitution. If he gets it, he can be shot as soon as he shows his big head in Illinois.
Ted smiled. “Of course. Not a problem. I’ll select the men and we’ll be off in the morning.”
Thorton smiled back. He knew Ted would take men that might be more loyal to the captain than the major and that suited him just fine. He then turned serious. “Don’t fail in this, Ted. I need that John Talon out of the way, if he’s as serious as that idiot said.”
The captain shook his head. “How hard could it be?” he asked.
17
Dan Winters ran. He had to get to his boat and make a run for it at least across the river. He couldn’t go south now because they would be waiting for him on the river. But his conscience was starting to get real itchy and he began to feel like he needed to go north. Right now, he just wanted to get away.
“There he is! Get him!” Shots whipped past his head as he crashed down the long slope towards the water. The men above him were clearly unused to a hard chase and Dan was able to keep ahead of them. He had kept his weapon, but he knew if he stopped and fought, he would be outflanked and killed in a short amount of time. The greatest danger would be the few precious seconds he was going to need to get the boat untied and started, but if he could gain a few seconds, he might be able to make it.
As he reached the bottom of the slope pretty much on his ass, Dan stretched his long legs and ran like he had never run before. While taking shelter behind a tree, he looked for his pursuers and saw them just halfway down the slope, dim shapes through the leaves.
Praying for luck, he took out his handgun and fired as best he could with shaking hands. Four shots and then he was running again, not even looking to see if he had hit anything. The men on the hill shouted and ducked for cover, giving Dan a few seconds to get away. But when more shots weren’t forthcoming, the soldiers continued pursuit.
Winters ran for the water’s edge and then ran upriver to where his boat was moored. He slashed the rope with his knife, then threw the boat into the water, launching himself into the back end. Muttering a quick prayer, he yanked on the cord and the engine to life, then died.
Cursing, Dan primed the motor, prayed again, then tried again The motor coughed again and then died. Dan primed it again, all the wh
ile realizing he was drifting closer to his pursuers.
Yanking the cord again, Dan ducked down as a bullet careened off his gunwale and ricocheted into the sky. The engine coughed, sputtered, wheezed, then roared to life, surging forward and nearly tipping Winters overboard. He corrected himself and sent the boat running upriver as bullets whipped past and churned the water around him. He fired his own weapon over his shoulder at the assembled men on the shore, causing them once again to duck.
Just as he was about to round a bend to relative safety, Dan pitched forward as a sledgehammer slammed into his back. He managed to keep a hand on the tiller and steered himself away from the fight.
Back on the shore, the men saw Winters fall and figured him for dead. They reloaded their spent magazines and started the long walk down the river back to the lodge, congratulating themselves on a job well done.
Dan knew he was in a bad way, but he couldn’t go for help. He shoved a towel onto his injured back and strapped his backpack on as tight as he could, trying to stop the bleeding. The bullet hadn’t gone completely through, but was lodged in his back near his shoulder. His right arm was nearly useless, but he had to keep going. He had to get to Starved Rock and warn the families there they were in danger because of his stupidity.
After he and his friends had quit the community, they had found nothing but hardship. They had lost one of their number in a bad town crawling with little fast zombies that had chased them to the river. They managed to escape, but just when things seemed to go well, they turned bad again. After a month of living hand to mouth, Dan had regretted acting like such a fool. He and his companion were just about to turn north anyway and ask forgiveness when they had been caught. Now Dan’s big mouth may have condemned several people to die, but it wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.
Winters travelled until nightfall, then beached himself on a small island. It was safer than trying to find a place on shore. He settled into a feverish sleep, sweating and fidgeting.
In the morning, Dan woke up to find the sun full on his face. He had slept longer than he wanted to and his shoulder was stiff as a board. It was a struggle to get up and even harder to start the motor, but he managed to do it, crying out in pain as he fell back when the motor kicked to life. His shoulder was a mess of dried blood and the towel was stuck to his back, but the bleeding had stopped. Dan gritted his teeth and continued north.
A week later, a man tending to cattle held on an island in the middle of a river discovered a small boat grounded on the south side. He surely hadn’t seen it before, but approached it cautiously, since there appeared to be a bloody hand hanging over the side. Looking in, he saw a man, barely old enough to shave, slumped in the bottom of the boat, hardly breathing. Carefully lifting him, the man brought the injured kid over to his boat and took him swiftly across the river to the landing on the other side.
Taking out his radio, he called ahead and received a reply, telling him to hold tight and wait. The man took the delay as an opportunity to look over the injured man, giving him water and trying to see the extent of his injuries. He appeared to have been shot, a curious thing, but the wound looked old, several days at least. Ten minutes later, a large man appeared from the woods, making no more noise than a shadow. He was well-armed and took in his surroundings every few seconds, making sure all was well in his vicinity.
The second man spoke. “What have you found, Mike?”
“Well, I was over checking on the livestock when I found this jasper in the boat on the…whoa!” Mike jumped back as the standing man drew his weapon and trained it on the head of the man lying down. The prone man’s head had turned at the sound of voices and was instantly recognized by the newcomer. Mike drew his own weapon in response and stood up next to other man. “What’s going on?” he asked, pointing his own weapon at the wounded man.
Charlie James knelt down by Dan Winters and spoke coldly. “If you can hear me, you’d better give me a reason for not killing you right now.”
Dan opened his eyes and tried to think through his fever-racked brain. All he could muster was, “They’re coming for you.”
Charlie looked around, his brow furrowing. “Who? Dan, don’t crap out on me now. Who?”
Winters took a few deep breaths. “Thorton.” More breaths. “He knows where you are.”
Charlie cursed. It was what he and John had feared. “Where did you escape? When?” Charlie was impatient and concerned all at the same time. He opened his canteen and splashed some water on Dan’s face. “You gotta talk to me, kid,” he said sternly.
Dan seemed to revive a little with the water. “Seven days. Pere Marquette.” He slumped into unconsciousness, unable to speak anymore.
Mike looked at Charlie. “What do you want me to do?”
Charlie looked down at Dan. “Take him to the Visitor Center, I’ll get Rebecca down to look at him. After that, get yourself armed. We got a fight coming.” Charlie looked at the lodge and the surrounding area. For all he knew, the fight was already here.
18
We’d been on the road now for about three weeks. Normally a trip like this would take two days at most. But that was when the world was normal and the highways weren’t choked with abandoned cars and rotting corpses all over the place. Some of those corpses were still walking around, many of them weren’t.
When we had reached the outskirts of Fort Wayne, Indiana, it was clear we weren’t going to be able to follow our designated path. Route 30 had become a tangled mess and I was amazed we had been able to follow it as long as we did. But in parts it was obvious that it was the major road and people had tried to escape using it. Spots of it were clear, but enough was jammed with cars so we didn’t even bother to try. We were forced to go further south, which was fine by me. We would have had to eventually turn south anyway, so this route was as good as any other.
The map indicated that Route 40 was a straight shot to Washington, so we decided to try our luck with old number 40. Things had been going pretty well, all in all. We had discovered that away from the major population centers, people had managed to survive. The smaller towns joined with the larger ones and with increased numbers they managed to keep the zombies at bay for the time being. We still passed many, many dead towns, but the ratio seemed to be two or three dead towns for every live one. I had a lot more hope than I originally had at the beginning of this trip and I began to think we might pull this one off.
At every live town we came to, we explained who we were and what we were doing. It was gratifying to see the overwhelming majority of people supported us and wished us luck. We had a lot of volunteers to come help, but I always politely refused. I told them this was a job for a small team or an army and we had nothing that resembled the latter. At each town, we discussed communications and many of them had some form of speaking to each other. Many were nothing more than car batteries hooked up to CB radios, but they worked and that was the key. I had to think of a way to try and communicate with all of them, but nothing I knew of had that kind of power anymore.
We spent three luxurious days in a small town in Indiana and I say luxurious because they happened to still have power. The electrical plant was nuclear and since they managed to figure out how to keep the thing running and closed all non-essential lines, my crew and I actually managed to take a hot shower for the first time in forever. Tommy said he was grateful for the water as well, not for him, but for me, since he claimed I didn’t smell so good.
We crossed into Ohio after having an interesting run through Richmond, Indiana. The people there were living ten feet off the ground. Every man, woman and child had up and moved literally ten feet in the air. They had suspended bridges between buildings, created walkways that allowed them to move freely about the town, all without touching the ground. Baskets of earth had been hauled up to the tops of flat roofed buildings and they planted their food up in the air as well. All this was well and good, but there was a snag that we could see from our perch on a distant hill. The g
round was crawling with zombies. All kinds, large and small, milling about, groaning at whoever happened to be seen at that particular moment. The noise was impressive, but even more so was the fact that the people didn’t seem to notice the grim sea beneath them. They had adapted their world and were content with the living arrangements. We just went our way. It was none of our business and the odds were long against us. Besides, if we did somehow manage to get rid of the Z’s, they’d probably be mad at us for making them waste all that effort. People were weird.
According to the map, the town we were approaching was Lewisburg and for some reason I can’t explain, I started to get a twitchy feeling in the back of my neck, like something was going seriously wrong somewhere. I couldn’t shake the feeling and it stayed with me all day. I spoke to Nate about it, but he just told me to stop being an old woman and concentrate on the job. Good old Nate.
The road we wanted to take led us right down the middle of the town and at first glance, there didn’t seem to be anything about. The road turned down a small valley and we passed what appeared to be a subdivision entrance that went back up a hill parallel to the one we were on. Some fairly large homes were tucked away back there, but even at this distance, we could see signs of the Upheaval.
We moved slowly up the next hill, learning from our past not to rush too quickly into areas we couldn’t see. The road was lined with old oak trees, flexing their branch tips to the spring sun. On the left side of the road was an old farm, on the right was an old cemetery, full of weeds and tired gravestones.
I still didn’t see much movement, so I just shrugged at Nate and gestured to him to keep moving. We glided into town and I looked carefully around. I didn’t see any serious signs of violence, so it may have been that this town just up and left for more secured living. We passed an old courthouse, with its front door framed in WWI artillery pieces and an auto-body shop with wide open bay doors.
America the Dead Page 14
