Ranger Martin (Book 3): Ranger Martin and the Search for Paradise

by Flacco, Jack

  “Why don’t you go—”

  “Listen,” Ranger interrupted Matty. “Let us go and you won’t see us here again. Ever. We never knew you were here. It’s that simple. How about it?”

  “What do I think?” The man strolled to Ranger and pointed the gun at his face. “I think you’re on a scouting mission to check out what we’ve got. I think you’ll be back with others once we let you go. I think you want what we’ve got. That’s what I think.”

  Grinding his teeth, Ranger wanted to grab the rifle and crack it over the man’s head, but that would mean the death of him, and the kids would be without someone to protect them. He played it cool not wanting to intimidate the man.

  “Have you heard of Temple City?” Jon said in the midst of the strained silence.

  “Temple City?” The man asked, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, as if he were shifting his ego from Ranger to Jon.

  “Temple City. What about Kansas? Have you heard what happened there?”

  The man laughed and glanced over his shoulder into the woods. He had no clue what the kid was talking about.

  “We did that.” Jon said. “If you knew what that means, you’d let us go.”

  The man didn’t know what it meant. He kept his gun pointed at Ranger and allowed the time to pass as a way to give those on their knees a chance to think about their lives before he and the others decided what to do with them.

  But someone in the woods did know about the events of Temple City. She said, “Wait.”

  Ranger glanced at the others recognizing the voice. He’d heard it before and wondered if anyone else recognized it.

  Out of the woods, a woman wiggled her arms from the others and said, “Let go of me. Let go of me, I said.”

  By that time, Ranger was sure. The smirk that settled on his face proved it.

  She marched to the center of the road, placed her hand on the man’s rifle and eased its barrel to point at the ground. “I know these people.”

  “You know these? These are hoodlums, up to no good.”

  “They’re friends. Call everyone else out here and tell them to put their guns down.”

  “I ain’t doing no such thing, woman.” He raised his gun at Ranger’s face again.

  “I’ll vouch for them. Okay? Does that satisfy you?”

  “You’ll vouch for them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your life for theirs?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Your life for theirs.” The man raised his eyebrows, scanned the kids from left to right then relaxed his posture. He extended his hand to Ranger. “My name is Kyle.”

  “Kyle? Yeah. Pleased to meet you. Ranger.”

  “You can get up now.” The woman said.

  Relief spread on all their faces as they rose from their knees. They patted their legs of the rocks that had stuck to their skin. Through her torn jeans, Sunglow had cut herself. Blood trickled down the side of her leg. Silver noticed and wiped away the injury with a rag he’d kept in his back pocket.

  “I thought I’d never see you again.” Ranger studied her face. Her scars hadn’t disappeared over time, but she still possessed the same glint in her eyes that softened his heart. “Where’s your daughter?”

  “I’m right here.” A little girl stepped from the woods.

  Jon stiffened, remembering the cold reception he had received from her the last time they’d met.

  “How do you know each other?” Sunglow asked.

  Ranger didn’t answer right away, as he attempted to regain his posture after having kneeled for such a long time. He introduced Oliva and her daughter Abigail to Sunglow and Silver explaining how Olivia had helped him and the others escape Temple City months prior.

  While Ranger reacquainted himself with old friends, a crowd of men, women and children poured from the woods to greet the strangers. They all had stories, and they all had people they had lost in the change. No one took a chance. Even though they appeared relaxed, they held their weapons at the ready, should anything have happened on that bridge.

  Jon smiled at Abigail, who smiled back.

  * * *

  The camp in the woods was laden with tall fencing all around. A boy no older than twelve was lighting torches that stood on posts between the fences while Ranger and the kids sat watching him from inside one of the cabins eating dinner.

  The area used to be a camping site for weary travelers looking for rest during a long journey between Nevada and California. Five cabins in all surrounded a campfire where others talked and cooked squirrel, a delicacy around those parts.

  Inside the cabin, Ranger sat with Randy and Jon on one side of the table, while Sunglow, Silver and Matty sat on the other side. Olivia took the head of the table and her daughter Abigail scrunched next to Jon. Kyle, the man who had given Ranger all the trouble, took the other end of the table.

  The crowd ate whatever they had in front of them. If it was squirrel, Jon didn’t seem to mind. He licked his fingers as he gobbled every piece other than the bones, which he dumped on his plate. Matty had a harder time swallowing something she knew crawled on trees. She had no idea what it had eaten before they served it as food on her plate. She ate small pieces at a time, draining her cup of water every chance she had.

  The flicker of the candles on the table warmed the cabin and rendered everyone’s faces various shades of amber. The conversation drifted freely as they spoke of what it was like to fight their way through a crowd of eaters.

  “How did you get here?” Ranger asked.

  “After Abigail and I left Temple City with a deserting military officer, we found ourselves in the small town of Daylar, near the Nevada/California border. We thought because Sergeant Baskins knew his way around the state, we would have been safe by his side. We couldn’t have been more wrong. We followed him into a hardware store in search of rope, cables and duct tape. We didn’t know the area was crawling with the undead.” Olivia said, taking another bite of her meal and wiping her mouth with the palm of her hand. “They surrounded the store and broke through the windows. Joe, that’s what Baskins liked us calling him, fired his gun in every direction. The monsters had broken the windows to the place and had taken over the front of the store. Joe kept firing his gun, but more of those eaters came through the windows, flooding the place.”

  “You must have been scared.”

  “We didn’t know what to do. Wherever we went, those creatures were there. They wouldn’t leave us alone. Joe finally gave us two grenades, and asked us to wait in the back room. We didn’t know what he had planned. He just said, ‘If you don’t hear any more shooting, take the grenades, pull the pins and throw them into the store.’ I knew what it meant and tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t have it. Abigail had to pull me away from him for me to realize it would be our last good-bye.”

  Randy picked his food with his fork not really paying attention to anyone other than his plate. Matty had her eyes on him in hopes he might look at her. He didn’t. Jon noticed, yet he had other things on his mind. He glanced at Abigail often, since she was Jon’s age and appeared different from the last time he had met her. Her smiled warmed him.

  “We did what Joe asked, went to the back of the store, locked the door and waited until the gunfire stopped. When it stopped, I had both grenades in my hands. Abigail asked if it was time. I knew it was time. We had to throw the bombs into the crowd. We had to.”

  “It must have been terrible.” Ranger said.

  “Joe died that day at the hands of the chewers, but none of them survived. The grenades blasted a hole through everything. We had an easy time of escaping to the jeep.”

  Ranger picked at his food. His stomach turned into a knot at the thought another precious life could have survived if there weren’t any zombies on the planet. Finally, he simply dropped his fork on his plate and rose from his chair to look out the window.

  Silver now understood what bothered Ranger the most. His mind drifted on the undead and their
single purpose in life. He, too, felt the pangs of hatred after hearing Olivia’s story. He pushed his dish to the center of the table and watched Ranger.

  “What about attacks?” Ranger asked, as he watched the torches burn into the night. “Have you had any since you arrived?”

  “We’ve had skirmishes where the chewers attacked the fences, but we’ve managed to fight them off. They come in small groups, probably leftovers from campsites that had changed. We’ve been safe here.” Olivia took a bite from her meal. “We’ve also had others who have tried to take what doesn’t belong to them. We’ve dealt with them and they no longer pose a threat.”

  “Didn’t you recognize us when we approached the barricade?”

  “I did. I couldn’t say anything.”

  Kyle said, “We’re real careful of who we let into the woods. We had to make sure you hadn’t turned.”

  “Turned?” Ranger faced him, as the light from the torches lit his face.

  “After a while, even if you’re a friend, your heart turns and there’s no telling what you’d do.” He stared at Ranger. “Then you’re more dangerous than the changed.”

  Ranger nodded, remembering those that had turned and had caused him grief.

  * * *

  After dinner, Jon had found a spot outside sitting against the outer wall of the cabin, thinking of their trip and of all they’ve been through. The safety of the fence and the light of the torches comforted him. He stretched his legs and crossed them knowing nothing could harm him from the darkness.

  Abigail, slender and dark-haired, her eyes filled with loneliness, drew near to him from around the corner of the cabin. When she spotted him, she smiled slightly. She didn’t speak to him, though. She simply saw the spot next to him and took it.

  Straightening from his slouch, Jon pulled his legs and leaned his elbows on his knees. He said, “I once ate snake and thought it was pretty good. I had raccoon, too. But tonight was the first time I had squirrel.”

  “What did you think of it?” She asked, also pulling her legs to her chest and leaning on them with her elbows like Jon.

  “Not bad.”

  “You’re not gonna say it tasted like chicken, are you?”

  “No, I’m not gonna say it tasted like chicken.” He said then smiled.

  Abigail wasn’t sure what to say next. When they met in Temple City, she had given him the impression she didn’t need any friends. Things have changed. After fighting eaters, losing people she loved and appreciating where she was, she needed a friend her age.

  “Do you like flowers?” Jon asked, taking a breath, unsure of his next sentence.

  “Yes.”

  He pulled a daisy from between the side of the cabin and the logs they sat on. He gave it to her. He had no clue what he was doing. He just knew girls liked flowers and flowers made girls feel good when receiving them.

  “Thanks.” She said, and edged the petals to her nose. The fragrance caught her off guard. Her gaze grew brilliant.

  There was a silence between them, but it wasn’t awkward. He had his things he was dealing with and she had hers. They had an understanding and that understanding transcended time and space to draw them in as one.

  “Do you like jellybeans?” He asked.

  “What?”

  “Jellybeans. Do you like them?”

  “Yes, of course. I don’t think anyone hates jellybeans.”

  Jon reached into his left pant pocket and pulled a small plastic bag. It made a crinkly sound as he opened the top. “Here. Take a few.”

  Surprise hit Abigail’s face as she dipped her hand in the treat bag. “I didn’t think these existed anymore.”

  “I found them in a hotel pantry in Las Vegas. I’ve been eating them as a reward for the good things that happen to me along the way to the west coast.”

  She smiled then said, “I guess you consider this a good thing. Us talking?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” She said, then popped a bean and allowed the strawberry to explode in her mouth. Her head went back as she closed her eyes with delight. She soon stopped chewing and her ears rose. She scanned the woods beyond the fence and heard it again. The sound of a crunch filled the clearing. Her heart raced as she stared into the darkness not knowing what it held.

  Jon gulped after hearing it, too. He was sure he had heard it. At first, he thought the sound came from the sparks from the torches sitting on the fence, but then after sitting still with his breathing having slowed, he wondered if the fire could actually do that.

  As they stared into the woods, leaves rustled in the distance. It could have been the wind, but then why didn’t the torches flutter to one direction?

  The kids sensed an intruder.

  Peering into the abyss, Jon and Abigail gawked at the leaves. They stopped chewing and stood frozen wondering about the sound. They could hear the breeze, but not enough to move the leaves. They could feel it on their skin, gently caressing their cheeks.

  The animal slipped from the leaves and entered the clearing. It bent its long, slender neck to chew at the grass next to a tree stump by the fence. It popped its head up and gazed at the children.

  “It’s only a deer.” Jon said.

  “Yes, only a deer.” Abigail leaned her back to rest on the side of the cabin.

  Within seconds, an eater leaped from the woods and attacked the deer. Two others burst from the darkness to jump the fence. A loud growl sent terror up the children’s spines. A large crowd tore the branches and attacked the fence.

  Abigail screamed.

  Chapter 15

  Inside the cabin, Olivia pressed her hands against the window facing the fence. Ranger recognized the agony in the scream. He burst to his feet, pulled his shotgun and cocked it. The teens left Olivia and followed Ranger outside. When the zombie killers turned the corner of the cabin, the horde, twenty strong, attacked the fences.

  They screeched their hunger at their meal from the other side. Pushing and shoving, the crowd bent the wooden support beams. As they leaned, stretching their arms through the gaps, more of the undead flooded from the woods.

  “Jon. Abigail. Get in the cabin.” Ranger said.

  They couldn’t move. They’d seen chewers before, but never this fast.

  “Inside!” Olivia pointed at the door to the cabin from where she appeared.

  Jon and Abigail flew past the others, entered the cabin then locked the door behind.

  From the opposite side of the compound, the west side, eaters had also begun attacking the fences. A group of armed residents, those who had threatened Ranger and the kids when they had approached the barricade, took to forming a firing squad ten feet away. They fired their guns not caring the sound would attract more attention. The horde had grown large and as one bullet cut down one eater at the fence, another of the undead appeared from the woods taking its place.

  In the meantime, Ranger and Matty blasted their guns into the mass that had overtaken the east fences. As it happened on the western side of the compound, the more they fired their weapons, the more zombies jumped from the woods on to the fence.

  The growls, shrieks and screams of the belly mashers seeped into the cabin where Jon and Abigail hid. The kids had seen it before. They knew what it was like feeling the rage from the evil that lurked from within the heart of the undead. They didn’t want to deal with it. Not after the way they had bonded over jellybeans. They sat in the corner pressing against each other, covering their ears. They could only hope for the best.

  As the fence bulged inward, Randy dashed in front of it, taking a more personal approach with how he handled the eaters. He pulled his knife and anything that moved he stabbed in the head. One cracked skull after another, he let loose his fury on the zombie horde, spilling green on the ground and all over his clothes.

  While watching the melee unfold, Silver and Sunglow had their own problem. They withdrew from their friends and dealt with it the best way they knew how. They used their gu
ns to quell a storming crowd hitting the north fence of the compound. Sunglow’s dead-accurate aim blew tissue and sinew apart. One blast after another from Silver’s gun proved he also had gotten the hang of killing the undead.

  With the residents holding their ground on the west side while Sunglow and Silver held strong on the north, Ranger and Matty protected the east, firing their guns and splattering brain matter from the undead. As long as the east fence breach didn’t get wider, and Randy maintained his position, cutting down the undead with his knife, Ranger foresaw a won battle.

  Now the south gates had sentries assigned who had abandoned their post to aid their friends caught on the west side of the compound, where the crowds had grown to over a hundred. The gates towered nine feet tall. It was where Ranger and Randy drove through with their vehicles earlier in the evening when entering the compound. They had parked their trucks past the gates, next to another cabin that functioned as a place where the compound’s residents socialized.

  Soon a flood of chewers also slammed into the gates, pushing them forward, straining the joints and chains hold them together.

  Standing next to Ranger, Matty spotted the unguarded gate with the growing mob descending from the woods, into the road. She could see the gate rock from the weight of the mass and knew she had to do something fast.

  Matty dashed from Ranger’s side to the gate, which bulged with the undead that wouldn’t have minded anything else other than to have her as their meal. The gate creaked, as the mob grew, pushed and heaved against the entrance. It was only a matter of time, Matty thought, before one of the brain suckers would make the compound their own.

  She had to do something. Her one gun would not be enough.

  Matty’s eyes burst with an idea.

  Fire, she thought. Fire!

  Without a moment to waste, she dashed to the pickup the boys had driven into the compound. She remembered how Ranger had packed gas canisters on its bed. It was their only hope before the horde got the best of the gate and crashed through to make everyone their appetizer for the night. Hopping into the truck, she dragged two canisters to the edge of the hatch. Next, she popped the hatch, jumped to the ground and hauled one of the canisters from the hatch. Gasping, not realizing how heavy the jugs were, she dropped her head on her arms. She leaned against the canister to rest.