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The Systemic Series - Box Set

Page 46

by K. W. Callahan


  I looked over to the others. “Be ready,” I said.

  I gave myself about a 50/50 chance of being shot as soon as I opened the doors. I gritted my teeth as I gripped one of the big library door knobs and pulled, readying for bullets to tear into me – but nothing happened.

  Even though it was early morning, dawn was still hours away. I could barely see the outline of a man standing in the center of the family room. I walked toward him, and as I neared, I could tell that it was Richard.

  As I approached, he said, “We have Sharron. Is there a place where we can talk in private?”

  “Yes. This way,” I said, leading him into the office.

  Once inside, I pulled a flashlight from my belt and turned it on.

  “You’ve made this a real bitch on us,” he said, stopping and closing the door behind us and then turning to face me.

  “Can’t say it’s been real pleasurable for us either,” I said.

  “Listen,” he continued as though he hadn’t even heard me. “I’ve got at least six dead people, probably more after tonight. I’ve got three more that may or may not make it and several others who have been wounded. Thankfully, Jim Wardlaw is among the dead. Even with him gone though, my people are about ready to string your girl up out there and rip her apart just to alleviate themselves of some of the pent up anger and frustration they’re feeling. It’s time for you all to go.”

  “I don’t think you’re in a position to dictate terms,” I said, hoping to bluff my way out of this predicament. “It’s time for you and your people to head back to town and lick your wounds before any more people die. I’m sorry about the people you’ve lost, but that wasn’t my fault. You’re going to lose even more if you persist in trying to take our home. Why don’t you just let Sharron go, and we won’t have to kill any more of you.”

  I thought it was a pretty good argument. It didn’t seem to faze Richard though.

  “Who is she?” he asked. “She won’t say. Is she your wife?”

  I didn’t want to reveal that she was family, and I hoped that by appearing slightly indifferent to her capture, it might give me some leverage in getting Richard and his people to give in.

  “Woman we picked up on the road along the way here,” I said. “She pretty much keeps to herself. Good with growing things though, that’s about the only reason we let her stay with us.”

  “Interesting,” Richard nodded, sounding as thought he wasn’t convinced. “Picked her up alone?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded.

  “She’s wearing a wedding ring,” he probed.

  “She was married before the sickness,” I said. “The flu took her husband, but she still hasn’t moved on from the loss.”

  “You’re a pretty good liar,” Richard nodded. “It’s a shame. I could have used someone like you to help me run things in town. Too late for that now though.” He paused and rolled his neck from side to side. I could hear it pop several times. “I’m tired of sleeping out in the woods, and I’m tired of fighting. Here are my terms. You all get one hour. You pack up what you need, get you’re people together, and get out. You never come back. I think they’re pretty damn good terms. You’re lucky Wardlaw is gone; otherwise, you’d never get them. We’ll even let you take your vehicles. In exchange, I won’t take Sharron and turn her over to my people.”

  “And here are my terms,” I countered quickly as if his offer wasn’t even worth my consideration. “You give us Sharron back, get out of our home, and head back to town. In return, you won’t add to your casualty list and we’ll still be willing to supply you with a portion of the meat we kill up here.”

  Richard snorted. “They’ll kill her you know. And they’ll take their time doing it. Could take days or even a week. They’ll torture her. And all the while they’ll enjoy doing it. That’s the kind of people some of them are. Not the kind of person I am. Not the kind of people a lot of our folks are. But that’s the kind of people the rest of the Wardlaw clan is, and they’re the ones that a lot of the people are listening to right now. Only reason I’m here is because I convinced them that I might be able to end this without any more bloodshed.”

  “That sucks,” I said. “I liked Sharron. She was a good woman. But you know I can’t endanger the rest of my people just for her,” I bluffed. “Who’s to say that even if I wanted to accept your terms you all wouldn’t just gun us down the minute we step outside this place?”

  “Guess no one,” Richard shrugged. “But it’s a chance you’ll have to take.”

  “No, it’s not,” I said. “Sorry. I don’t think you all know what you’re in for if you keep this up.”

  Richard just shook his head. “I’ve got to hand it to you. You’ve put up one hell of a fight here, but it’s over. I know it…you know it. Thankfully, the rest of the halfwit Wardlaws don’t know it, otherwise they’d never have let me talk to you. They’d just send you to the slaughter. You see, there are two types of people left in this world. There are the people like you and me that are still clinging to the shreds of modern society, of civility. And then there are people like the Wardlaws who are only concerned with themselves and how much they can take. And they’ll do anything they have to in order to take it. You’re cut off from the rest of your group downstairs. And I know for a fact that at least one of them has got some pretty good injuries down there.”

  I immediately thought of Claire and Jason, wondering who it could be and what had happened.

  He paused, waiting for a response. Getting none, he went on, “Yep. We used a Molotov cocktail trying to get into the basement. Good idea those Molotov cocktails by the way…thanks,” he nodded at me. “Anyway, she got gasoline all over her. Sounded like she got burned pretty good. Both lucky and unlucky for those people holed up down there. That fire was the only thing that stopped us getting into the basement and killing the lot of them.

  I swallowed hard wondering who had been burned and what their condition was.

  “So why don’t you just go ahead and call your people up and go,” Richard continued. “There are plenty of other places for you out there. Go start over. You did pretty well for yourselves here. You ought to be able to find another place to get set up.”

  Now it was my turn to snort, “Not as easy as you think. This is the second time people have tried to run us off. We’re getting tired of starting over.”

  “Way I see it, you don’t have much of a choice in the matter,” Richard said. “That woman downstairs needs medical attention. And the one we captured is going to need it real soon too if you don’t call it quits. Why don’t you just end this before anyone else gets hurt or worse? Otherwise, everyone we have will be inside this house; and I can almost guarantee you’ve got to be low on ammunition by now. If I could completely guarantee it, I probably wouldn’t be in here talking to you.”

  Here he stopped and waited.

  I looked around the office in the darkness, knowing that we were beat. Richard was right. We could go on fighting, but what good would it any of us? How many more lives would it cost? They’d probably kill Sharron right away. Meanwhile, the rest of us were split up, someone was severely injured downstairs; and he was right, we were dangerously low on ammo. We had a chance to walk away…no, we had a chance to drive away, which considering the circumstances was a pretty fair deal after the number of Richard’s people we’d either killed or wounded. Still, I felt I had to give it once last shot.

  I was just about to go all in and try to bluff him when Richard said, “Don’t do it.”

  “Don’t do what?” I said.

  “There’s nothing you can say, no bluff you can make other than you telling me you’ve got some tanks or armored personnel carriers showing up at dawn. The offer is on the table…take it or leave it. You’ve got five minutes to talk it over with your people in the other room.”

  He started to walk away.

  “Wait,” I said. “I don’t need to talk to them. You’ve got a deal.”

  He turned back around, “
Smart man,” he nodded. “So who is she? Your wife, right?”

  “Brother’s wife,” I said.

  Richard nodded.

  “Do me one favor?” I asked

  “You’re hardly in a position…”

  “The girl that was killed the first day you came up here,” I interrupted. “Could you bury her when you bury your people? She had no part in any of this, so your people shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

  Richard took a deep breath. “Not necessarily. You don’t know some of these people.” Then, considering it, he said, “Where’s her body?”

  “In the bathroom over there,” I nodded toward the tiny office bathroom.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll take care of it personally. I don’t want to involve anyone else because they may not be as understanding. I could see some bad things happening to the body. I’ll come up here alone once things have calmed down and you all have cleared out, and I’ll find a nice spot for her.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  * * *

  True to his word, Richard indeed gave us an hour to get our things together and get out. The entire time, I was readying myself, expecting the shooting to start up again as our conquerors gunned us down in reprisal, but they didn’t.

  I was glad that I had Claire ready the bug-out bags ahead of time. It certainly cut down the prep time involved for our departure. Still, there was a lot to do. And our people walked – at least those who could walk – around zombie-like, dazed by the events of the morning. They were coping as best they could, but it was tough on all of us.

  Packing up camp and moving our possessions – limited though they were – was no easy task. Sharron and Claire switched off between packing stuff and caring for the injured. Meanwhile, Sarah, Paul, and Shane took turns, switching off between packing and caring for Jason. I felt bad for them. They’d gone through more hardship and change in the past six months than most people could expect to experience in a lifetime.

  As the rest of us stuffed our belongings hurriedly into garbage bags and hauled them out to the garage to lash to the tops of our vehicles, I was sure we were forgetting things.

  For me, Claire’s diabetic supplies came first and foremost, and they got a spot inside our SUV with us.

  We grabbed all the meat from our fridge, and I had the kids go through the remnants of the greenhouse and collect any remaining edible produce, ripe or not.

  Emily had indeed been badly burned, but it could have been much worse had it not been for Paul who had come to her rescue, throwing a blanket overtop her and pulling her to the floor to smother the flames. Her legs, feet, and hands had born the brunt of the burns, and much of her hair had been burned away as well. She also had a pretty bad bump on her head from where she’d hit it when Paul had pulled her to the ground to extinguish the flames.

  Claire did her best to get her worst wounds quickly protected with antibiotic ointment and a light layer of bandages that had been found in among the medical supplies that we were taking with us.

  Our vehicles looked like covered wagons, supplies piled high in disarray atop the rooftop luggage racks. One SUV served as a rolling triage center, the other, a daycare center. And worst of all, we had hardly any fuel for the vehicles since we had used most of it for powering the generator during our time at the castle. I split the last of the Molotov cocktails between our two vehicles. It wasn’t much, but every little bit counted.

  With our supplies hastily strapped atop our vehicles, we began loading people inside. We put all the back seats down to expand the size of our SUV and mini-van cargo areas so that people could sit or lie down. Seatbelts for anyone other than those riding up front were out of the question. Jason’s car seat was tossed. Just getting everyone inside the vehicles was our main focus now. It was like cramming people into clown cars. We put Dad in the front seat of our SUV while I drove. Will and Emily were in the back where they could lay flat with Claire and Joanna acting as their nurses. Cashmere was in a cat-carrier that Claire had discovered in one corner of the garage while packing. Meanwhile, in Will’s mini-van, Ray drove with little Paul in the front passenger seat. Pam and Sharron sat in the back with Sarah, Shane, and Jason.

  Before we left, I took one last trip alone back inside the castle. I walked through the dining room, on through the family room, and into the library. Richard and his people had already removed the bodies of their people who had fallen here in the final battle. In the dawn’s early light, I could see the destruction that had been wrought in the beautiful room. The fireplace and surrounding mantel were chipped and cracked, pinged and pockmarked from dozens of bullet impacts. Many of the lavish chairs, sofas and tables and were overturned, smashed, blood-covered, or shredded by gunfire. The floor in several spots was burned black or stained with blood.

  I felt bad, and I actually apologized aloud to the home and to Aaron Coughlin who had spent so much time and care – not to mention money – to create such a spectacular spot. It was sad. I’d spent so many hours here with our family and had planned to spend so many more growing, living and loving in this serene location – and now it was not to be. There had been so many memories made here already and the promise of so many more, and here we were, leaving this once beautiful home in shambles. I think I would have been content to live out the remainder of my years at the castle, completely content without the trappings of the modern world.

  I stood, looking around me. It was all too much. I didn’t want to see any more. I wanted to remember the home as it had been, not the way we’d left it.

  I walked back outside to the garage where the vehicles awaited and where the last few preparations to leave were being made by our group. As I looked at the mountains surrounding us, I knew a peaceful existence here was not meant to be, but I remained determined to find it somewhere.

  CHAPTER 6

  I was surprised to find Richard waiting for me outside the garage when I returned in preparation for departing the castle. He motioned me around back.

  I followed him warily behind the garage where he stood beside a five gallon fuel tank.

  “Thought you might need this,” he nodded down at the container.

  “More than you know,” I told him.

  “I’m truly sorry things went down the way they did,” he said.

  “Me too,” I offered.

  “I know this isn’t much, but it’s all I could spare…all I could sneak without my people getting wise. Just don’t fill up here. I might loose control of them if they see you using their fuel.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Hold on just a second.”

  I hurried back to our car. Opening one of the garbage bags we’d already strapped to the top, I rummaged around one of the packs inside. It took me a minute to find what I was looking for.

  Getting back to Richard, I handed him a big paper-wrapped package.

  “What’s this?” he asked, hefting it and looking down questioningly at what I’d handed him.

  “Like you said, it’s not much, but it’s all we could spare…about fifteen pounds of venison,” I nodded at him. “I thought you could use it.”

  “Thanks,” he nodded smiling. “More than you know.”

  We shook hands.

  “My people will escort you out to the highway,” he told me. “Just make sure you keep moving. East, west, north, south…we don’t care, just make sure that for your own sake, you don’t come back. I wouldn’t like to see that, and I don’t think I could control what might happen to you or your people if you did.”

  “Understood,” I nodded.

  And with that we parted. I was kind of afraid that once we were on the road and away from Richard’s influence, his people might try to extract their revenge, but they didn’t. We made it back to the highway without incident. Once there, the two pickup trucks that had followed us from the castle stopped and waited, watching us from the entrance to the on-ramp as we drove up it and out onto the highway. I watched as their headlights faded in my rear-view mirro
r until they disappeared completely.

  And suddenly, there we were, back where we’d been just a few months earlier – on the road again, not much gas in the tanks, not much food, very little water, and no clear idea of where to go or what awaited us once we got there. The only difference now was that the weather was slightly better…at least for the moment. It was sunny and felt like the temperature was slightly above freezing. I was grateful that the sun had melted the highway clear of any snow or ice.

  About five miles after we hit the highway, we stopped and split the fuel Richard had given us up between the two vehicles. Claire let Cashmere out of her carrier, and as I climbed back into our SUV, my precious kitty quickly made her way up front where she immediately curled up contentedly in my lap while I drove as though nothing had happened and we were back sitting before the castle’s library fireplace.

  It felt strange to be on the road again after all this time. I hadn’t driven a vehicle in months. After all that had just happened, I almost laughed aloud, not because our situation was funny; but because in a way, it was sadly comical. Here we were; our hopes and dreams dashed, our group tired, disheartened, injured, and disillusioned. And once again, we had to start all over. I shook my head as I drove. My eyes began to well up with tears. It wasn’t that I felt bad for myself, but I felt bad for my family. I wondered what I could have done differently. What I should have done differently. We probably shouldn’t even have gone into town. Then there wouldn’t have been the incident with the Wardlaws. Maybe we should have waited to go to the creek for water. Then Will and I would have been there when the attack began rather than getting to the fight late. But this wasn’t the time for theories of hindsight. There were mouths to feed, shelter to find, security to consider, and a new plan to start developing. Drowning my sorrows in playing guessing games about the past wasn’t going to accomplish any of that.

  Between the two vehicles, I knew we didn’t have long until our gas tanks ran dry. With the fuel Richard had given us, and by reducing our speed, I gave us to somewhere just across the Georgia state line if we were lucky. And it didn’t look as though things in the outside world had gotten better since we’d taken up in the castle. Based upon our Tipton experience, it didn’t appear that the past three months had given society the time it needed to get back on track. In fact, from what I saw – or didn’t see – as I drove, things almost appeared worse.

 

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