Clay pinned Phil to the wall of the trailer, his forearm pressed against his throat, the anger he had suppressed flooding out, like a burst dam. "BACK? BACK TO WHAT? Three hots and a cot, is that all you want? I lost my wife, my children. I spent the past year, not looking anybody in the eye, afraid they would turn me over to the zealots, or worse yet, the Sisterhood. We got a way out of that, gain some decent allies, be people again, have some self respect and you talk about going back."
Clay threw Phil out of the trailer and before Phil could rise, Clay jumped down and pinned Phil to the ground, with a foot on his back. A crowd was starting to gather and Clay called out to draw them closer. "Could everyone gather around, please."
Clay waited a couple of minutes to allow everyone to come close, before holding a hand up for silence. "Phil here, thinks we should turn on these folks and go back to Rachel and the Believers. I'm sayin we clean up our mess here and then go back and claim our families. Anybody else with different thoughts, better step forward."
A few tense moments passed and then a women near the front, Clay recalled her name as Hannah, raised a hand. "I guess you're stuck with us boss, if you don't mind me askin, what is your plan for Phil?"
Clay had almost forgotten, he still had Phil pinned to the ground. His mind racing with so many people looking to him to take charge. "Phil here is .... Phil is only concerned about Phil, he's my problem for now. You’re Hannah right?" The woman nodded and Clay continued. "Could you do something for me? Things are real fluid right now and luckily, everyone is kinda going with the flow. I need a ... what do you call it ... a liaison officer, someone to help make sure everyone is informed and help keep me from running into more surprises, like Phil here. Can you handle that, at least for the near future?".
Hannah smiled and nodded. "Be my pleasure, boss."
A short while later Clay, leading Phil in front of him, with Hannah, Joe and the thirty shooters joined Tom, Prescott and Tim. A tense stare down took place as Tom fully realized how vulnerable they were. Tom gazed over at Phil, who kept his eyes downcast. Phil had been cleaned up, but blood still stained his shirt and his eyes were blackening and his nose was swollen, blood soaked gauze protruding from it.
Tom nodded his head, towards Phil. "Is there a problem here?"
Clay raised his hands to show he was unarmed. "A little dissention among the ranks. Its been dealt with, we are ready to move forward. Let's hear your plan and how we can be of assistance."
Tom and Tim looked at each other and each, slowly exhaled. With a nod from Tom, Tim began. "These men on guard, any chance you could talk tell them down?"
Clay shook his head, emphatically. "No .... No way. They are fanatics. That is the only way, anybody would stay that close to all those dead. They believe they are on a holy mission."
Tim could see a few of the men Clay brought with him, nodding in agreement. "Alright, we'll do it the hard way. Prescott, most of this is your plan, go ahead and lay it out."
Clay and his people turned, taking in the young man as he prepared to talk. Prescott was tall for his age, a couple of inches shy of six foot. He had an athletic build and back in the old world, he probably would of been captain of the football team, or some shit like that. He had adapted to this world though, the belt at his waist held a knife, tomahawk, pistol and possibles bag. Slung over his back, was an old 30-30 and strapped across his chest, was a brace of black powder pistols. Around his neck was a strip of leather, holding the tip of an antler and in one hand, he held an old cane, which had been turned into a baton of sorts, the ends sharpened to points.
Prescott's face had the blush of boyish peach fuzz, yet when he spoke, his voice had the deep timbre of a man. Prescott began using his baton as a pointe. "Ahh alright, let's get started, we have a lot to go over."
Tom picked up the radio, not quite sure how he was going to break the news that they had climbed into bed, with the people that had caused them so much pain and grief, the past few months. Pressing the call button, Tom asked. "Sue, Sam someone pickup."
"Pete here, go ahead Tom."
"Pete, Good to hear your voice, how are you?" Tom exclaimed, relieved that his friend was better.
"Damn concerned about you, fill us in." Pete answered, waving everyone over to him.
"It's been quite the day and it's not over, yet. Things have taken quite the turn here, but we are good. I need you ready to leave their, in a couple of hours. We'll come get you, you’re coming home." Tom said, hoping he sounded upbeat.
Sue grabbed the radio from Pete. "Tom, what do you mean, what's going on?".
"To much to go over on this radio. I'll catch you up, when I come get you."
"How are you coming to get us? We have the cars, we'll just come to you."
"We'll be using the others vehicles. Turk took the horses to go after Mitch and Margo. Babe, I know your in the dark, but trust me, you need to stay put, we'll be there soon." Tom answered
Tom signed off and Sue throttled the radio. “Arrgh, twenty years we've been together and that man still hasn't learned he needs to say more, than hello and goodbye.”
Sam tried to console her. “Breath Sue, Tom did say they'll be here directly and they's okay. I wish we had somethin more to tell Red, though.”
Chapter 12 - Knight’s Tour
Tim had the convoy stop, out of sight of the huge pen of zeds and Tom dropped back in a defensive position, with the men borrowed from Clay's group. Tom was a little unnerved to be going into a fight with a group, he had no idea as to what extent he could rely on and to make it real interesting, a few hours ago, they were on opposite sides of battle lines.
Clay, Prescott and Tim crawled forward to look over the pen and identify the location of the guards. The scene that greeted Tim and Prescott, was chilling. The True Believers had converted a fenced in RV sales lot into a massive pen, holding thousands of zeds.
Prescott marveled at both the audacity and still simplicity of the pen. The RV lot was already fenced off, but they had moved the RV's out and placed them along the outside of the fence, for added support. The zeds were lured in, through a series of one way gates. The 'Frozen Delights' ice cream truck that the zeds had followed to the pen, was parked to one side of the entrance and was, apparently, being used as a camper by the two guards.
The pen was in a commercial area that was mostly store fronts and parking lots, but a year with no maintenance and the grassy strip between buildings, had grown tall and small shrubs had sprouted. If they circled around to the back of the building, they would have a chance at sneaking up on the guards, unseen. It would be easier if one of the guards, wasn't on top of the ice cream truck, but he did seem to be focused on the general direction, where the cabins Tom was protecting, lay.
“Avery, come on down and get some grub.” The man standing on the ground, called.
“I ain't hungry Rich, smelling all these fallen all the time, makes everything taste like rot. Now I tell you, I heard gunshots.”
Rich shrugged. “So what if you did, it is no concern of ours and is probably just Zachary, huntin down some of those godless, non-believer trash. Don't matter either way, we are out of here soon. If Zachary has failed, then we will release the fallen here to cleanse them from that park. Now come on down, you’re riling up the fallen.”
Seeing the guard climb down from the top of the truck, Tim halted Prescott. “I'll give you that, you have a head for strategy and you handle yourself well in tough situations, but you need to follow my lead on this one. We are going to try and take those two alive, if possible. I've had friends come back from war and things they've had to do, eat at them.”
“I'll follow your lead, but if it is them, or us I will not hesitate. For the record, I'll be sixteen in a few months, I'm not a kid anymore.” Prescott responded, stern faced.
Tim had Clay pause at the back of the truck as he and Prescott, rounded to the other side, from either end. Tim leveled the shotgun at the pair and with deliberation, called out. "Hold it right t
here, raise your hands...turn around and place your hands, against the truck."
Avery moved to comply, but Rich tried to make a grab for his own shotgun. Prescott drew one of his black powder pistols, aimed and fired, all in one smooth movement. The lead ball found its mark and split the shotguns stock, just inches from Rich's outstretched hand.
“I'd do as you’re told friend the kid here, has a real itchy trigger finger. You see, he doesn't take kindly to assholes coming along, hurting his friends and family.” Tim warned.
“You're from the park?” Rich asked, with incredulity.
Tim filled the two in, quickly. “That's right. Your preacher Josiah, died of a broken heart, turned and ate off Zachary's face, proving the lies in your true belief. The rest of your crew are over that rise, ready to help us torch your corral, here.”
Rich turned on Tim in anger. “Deceiver, I shall not fall for your lies. The Mother has us on a blessed path and you cannot stop us.”
Clay stepped behind Tim and called out. “Listen to him Rich. That whole Book of Truth business was nothing more, than a way to keep us toeing the line.”
From his position behind the other men, Prescott could see Rich pulling a gun from behind his back. “Don't do it mister, I warn you, it will not end well.”
Rich spun to fire at Prescott and Tim cut him down with a single blast, from the shotgun. Not that he had much to begin with, but that took all the fight out of Avery and he let himself be tied up in the back of the truck. Tim took the pairs radio and pulled the batteries from it, then used his own radio to tell Will to move his catapult, into place.
Once everyone was in place, Will readied his first charge and with more than a hint of bravado, called out. “Prepare to be amazed.”
The napalm charge, arced through the air and landed in the middle of the zeds, setting them ablaze. With help from his crew, Will made a slight adjustment to the position of the catapult and flung another charge. Within fifteen minutes, Will had the entire throng of zeds on fire and switched to using the propane tanks. He had covered the outside of the thirty pound cylinders with ball bearings, nails and screws. The tanks exploded on impact and the debris ripped through the zeds, dropping them in droves.
Near the end, one of the RV's caught fire and when its gas tank blew, it opened a gap in the fence. By that time, the number of the zeds had been so decimated that the riflemen were able to easily contain the breach.
Lizzie and Arianna were anxiously keeping watch at the window, waiting for Tom to arrive. Just then, a number of vehicles pulled up and unknown men got out and took up positions, around the cabin. “They're here … those people are here … what do we do?”
Tom hobbled up quickly to the cabin as rifles and pistols, began poking out of every window. “Stand down … stand down. These men are with me, they are here to help.”
Sue opened the cabin door and then bolted, into her husbands arms, “Thomas, you've had me on pins and needles. Who are all these people, what is going on?”
“I will, but first Riley here is an EMT and he'll make sure everyone is fit to travel.” Tom replied, smiling broadly.
Tom directed the men with him to take up defensive positions, around the cabin and then went in with Sue and Riley. Emma took Riley in to see Red and Tom, laid out the days events. They listened quietly and without interruption. Sue and Miri exchanged concerned looks, when Tom told them how their wall was nearly breached and how Jim and Jack, came to their rescue. When Tom got to the part, where the Kentuckians had a change in leaders and they were now working with the group to clean out penned zeds, was when they could no longer contain themselves.
“Tom, this just don't add up, folks just don't change their ways that quick. How can you be sure this isn't some trick?” Pete challenged.
Tom was taken back a bit, by the vehemence in Pete's voice. “I know, because I've spent the better part of the day with them. I've looked them in the eye,. I've seen how they act. They have had several opportunities to attack us and they haven't. What you need to understand about these people is they have been living the past year in fear, not only for their own lives, but their families as well.”
Riley came out of the room, where Red was resting, “Whoever patched her up did a good job, though I'm not sure about that pine sap. Can't argue with the condition of her wounds though. Her biggest problem, she has lost a lot of blood. I've started an IV to help get her fluid volume up. I'd like to get a couple of bags into her, before she is transported. While we are waiting, who is the concussion victim.”
“Right here, you son of a bitch.” Pete roared and punched Riley square in the face and began to follow that up, with a series of punches.
Tim came into the cabin, followed closely by Will, Prescott and Clay. When Tim saw Pete pummeling Riley, he ran in and pulled him off. “Pete, what the hell man?”
Pete looked at Tim with a wild look, in his eyes. “Not again, not on my watch. I won't let them sneak in, I won't lose anyone else.”
Clay went over and extended a hand to Riley and helped him off the floor. “You okay?”
“Dudes got a hell of a right cross, but I'll live. It's not the first time, a patient swung at me.” Riley joked.
Clay turned to Tom. “Tom, we good here?”
“I'm not sure. Pete, I've never seen you like this before, what's going on?” Tom asked, concerned Pete was tipping over the edge, they all had been walking.
It was like a wave had crashed over Pete, all the loss and guilt flooded over him, and he began sobbing out his regrets, almost incoherent at first. “I... I … I couldn't save Sheila. I let them take Mitch, I let that bitch get by me to take Margo. Now Red is hanging on by a thread and Turk is out there alone. All because I'm a stupid old man, who has no place here.”
Tom started to speak, but Riley stopped him. “Pete, you rang my bell pretty good there. You are not as old as your thinking. Hell man, we've all had loss, we all have regrets, but you got good friends here, who still need you. There are children here who need to know about the world, before it turned to shit. I'm writing you a simple prescription, get it filled soon.”
Riley took out a pad and wrote one word on it, 'SLEEP' and handed it to Pete.
Pete laughed as he read the note, a little sheepish, after his outburst. “I'll try.”
“If it's okay, I’d like to give you a little something to help you relax. It won't knock you out, but it will take the edge off.” Riley offered.
Pete nodded and sat down, accepting the shot. Riley moved on to Tracey and nodded approvingly at the state of her wound, re-bandaged it, gave her a dose of antibiotic and then did the same for Will. Then Riley turned to Tom. “Alright Tom, lets have a look at the leg.”
“Later, we got one more nest of zeds to take care of.” Tom answered, defiantly.
“Thomas Higgins, you sit down and let this man check out your leg, this minute.” Sue ordered.
Tom sat down and let Riley inspect his wound. “It's been well taken care of, but you've been bouncing around on this leg, too much.”
Riley gave Tom an injection of antibiotic and looked over to Sue. “He needs to stay off this leg, at least three days. If you got any way to ice it, that would be good and the leg needs to be elevated, most of the time.”
Tom started to argue, but Sue cut him off. “Oh he will rest, if I have to sit on him to make him do it.”
Shortly thereafter, Riley declared Red fit enough to travel and Tim placed a hand on Tom's shoulder. “Sorry chum, you heard doctor's orders, you’re sittin this one out, we'll take Tracey and Sam. Clay, if your good with it, I'd like the men that Tom arrived with to follow them back to our home.”
Once again, the group split and moved out. The team met with less resistance from the guards at the second pen and before nightfall, all had returned to the park. Sue and Miri had dipped into their venison supply, to make a meal for everyone. Even with half of the Kentuckians already moved on, having an extra thirty plus mouths to feed, made a serious de
nt in their reserves, yet it seemed like the right thing to do.
Clay chose not to travel at night and he and his crew, bunked down in the park. Even though the day had been arduous, sleep took a long time coming. At day break, Clay went to say his goodbyes to Tom and the rest of the group. He had brought along a box of ammunition, antibiotics, salves and painkillers as a way of furthering their relationship along.
“I wish it could be more, but our gas reserves are slim and we'll be on tight rations.” Clay explained.
Tom had the kids gather some fresh vegetables and a few pounds of jerky. Tom also offered Clay water to load up on. Prescott piped up. “Do you think you could leave us one of those ice cream trucks, I've been thinking of a way to sweep zeds away from here. Maybe lead them into some kind of trap and dispose of them.”
Abigail showed up with a small bag packed. “Clay, I'll be leaving with you, my daughter is back there and I have to get back to her.”
Red Rises (Book 2): Dead To Rights (HZA, Vol. 4) Page 29
