The Age of Embers {Book 3): The Age of Reprisal

by Schow, Ryan

  And then her thoughts went to her brother…

  When it came to Orlando, her mother initially seemed prepared to induce hypothermia as a way to wake him up, but then she chickened out and wouldn’t let anyone do that. Her father kept at her, though. Sometimes listening to them could be exhausting. And most times she agreed with her father. They made progress though. Just that morning, against the cooperative efforts of her father and her uncle Ice, Adeline finally relented.

  “If he dies because of this…” her mother had said, her eyes damp and dripping, her hands slightly shaking.

  “He won’t die, Mom,” she’d said. Looking at her father, she said, “Dad won’t let him.”

  “I won’t,” he assured them.

  Later Brooklyn found herself out front, loading the rest of the supplies onto a flatbed trailer they’d attached to the bus when the sounds of a weak, sputtering engine cut through the air.

  Xavier and Ice looked at each other. Eliana already had her gun out and was stepping off the back of the trailer.

  Moments later, an old blue sedan, something soft looking and smaller from the late fifties or early sixties, turned the corner. They all saw Morgan driving with Chase up front and the two boys in the back seat.

  The four of them had huge grins on their faces.

  The car was dusty, the windows in need of a wash, but the tires were new and the paint in decent shape. Morgan pulled to a stop, put the car in park and got out.

  The second Phillip got out of the car, he said, “Look what we found!”

  Not only did Morgan and the boys find a working car, a Chevy Biscayne, they’d stuffed the trunk full of food, bottled waters and several large boxes of matches, batteries and stacks of paper plates.

  “Where in the world did you get all this?” Adeline asked as everyone else admired their find.

  “Just the right house at the right time,” Morgan replied.

  Brooklyn helped carry a thirty-two pack of water and two four-packs of plastic-wrapped tuna cans into Morgan’s house. When she was coming back out for more, she saw a man in the distance. Shading her eyes from the sun, he came into focus.

  Draven.

  “Dad, Uncle Ice,” she said, getting their attention. She pointed to Draven. When she was sure it was him, Brooklyn bounded up the road to meet him, trying not to act giddy, but nervous about how she’d feel if all the daydreaming about him fell short.

  He met her with a smile.

  He looked good.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “Did you find what you needed?”

  “I did,” he said.

  She expected him to be at ease; instead he looked a little tense.

  When he got to the house, everyone gathered around him, obviously curious about what he’d learned.

  “There are good people there,” Draven said, “but there are bad people, too. Some really bad people.”

  “And?”

  “I think if we eliminate a half-dozen of them, maybe more, we’ll be good. But leaving them alone isn’t an option. They’re too close to our home and they’re planning something.”

  “What do you mean?” Eliana asked.

  He looked at her and said, “Someone butchered three of their people a few nights back. They started talking openly about it yesterday. They think we did it. Us. This group.”

  “But we didn’t kill anyone,” Adeline said.

  “Fat guy and two skinny guys?” Xavier asked.

  Draven nodded.

  “Yeah, that was me,” Xavier said. “I did that.”

  “You did that?” Draven asked.

  Now everyone was looking at Xavier with questions in their eyes, and perhaps even some measure of judgment.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell us something like that?” Fire said.

  “I was going to, but it wasn’t something I was proud of,” he replied. “I was in a bad place, thought I could kill my way through all of them. I mean, they shot two of their own women just to prove a point.”

  “I saw you,” Chase said.

  Xavier looked at him and said, “I know.”

  Chase turned a lighter shade of white, now with nothing to say. Morgan put her arm around the boy, pulled him close.

  “Like I said, there are a lot of good people there,” Draven replied. “But they’re following Demon because he demands obedience and loyalty in return for safety.”

  “Demon?” Eudora said, wheeling out onto the porch. Draven looked up at her and smiled. She smiled back and said, “I was worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” he said. Then: “This Demon guy, his real name is Guillermo Rodriguez, but he sees himself as something dark and all powerful, which is why he changed his name. He either has, or had, ties to the gang, the Latin Kings. He won’t talk much about it, though. Only enough to glorify them. But something happened there, something bad. Now, I think he’s got the kind of issues only a bullet can resolve, if you catch my drift.”

  “So what are you suggesting?” Ice asked.

  “If we go in hot, there are bound to be casualties. I think we can take them, but I’m afraid we may take a few too many.”

  “So let me get this straight,” Eliana said. “You had direct interaction with Demon?”

  “I did,” Draven said.

  “What did he require of you?” Eliana asked. “Surely he wanted something from you.”

  “Conform to their ways and be a part of them or leave. I told him I wanted to be a part of their group, but the truth is, I don’t think he would have let me leave if I said I wasn’t coming back. I feel like he likes me, like he thinks I’ll integrate well.”

  “That’s what he said?”

  “To me, yes. But to others, I’ve heard that he tells them they can be a part of the solution or they could be a part of the problem.”

  “Really,” Ice said, a statement, not a question.

  “You can’t just demand servitude in an environment like this,” Xavier said. “People can always just slip away in the night, go their own way.”

  “Yes they can,” Draven replied. “But not everyone is strong like you, or able to survive on their own. These people couldn’t handle the fear of self-reliance, much less the fear of the unknown as it relates to their personal survival.”

  “Our society bred weakness,” Fire said. “They created a bunch of entitled pansies with no sense of self-preservation. They only wanted to feel good, to feel safe, to be appreciated. This is what becomes of them. Those railing against slavery eventually become the slaves.”

  Brooklyn knew her father was right. She’d heard him talk like this before. He talked like this all the time.

  Theirs was a society that began shaming strong men, the same society that introduced five year old boys to the idea that maybe they were born boys, but that they could become girls if they wanted. Most of the guys she knew played video games, were socially awkward and couldn’t change a tire, much less drive a car or get a job. These were the same guys who couldn’t talk to women, so they stole from them. Did the kinds of things that were done to her. This was truly pathetic, and it was emblematic of a society run by people who so easily got their feelings hurt. Half the time she tried to ignore the changing societal norms, but half the time she looked around and everyone and felt bad for how confused they had become. Confusion breeds weakness, she thought, and weakness breeds dependency.

  “Let the weak die off,” Brooklyn heard herself say.

  “I second that,” Eliana added.

  She looked over at her uncle Ice, who was looking at Eliana, but Eliana wasn’t looking at Ice, she was looking at her. Brooklyn felt a smile rise to her lips. She saw the same smile rise to Eliana’s lips, giving Brooklyn pause. This was the same woman who choked her mother out for hours at a time. Now they were on the same side?

  What does that say about me?

  “We need to get the good people someplace far away from Demon, a holding ground maybe, until we can take care of this problem in a more tactical manner.�
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  “If you’d just come with us, Draven,” Fire said, “this wouldn’t be a problem. Demon and his circus could do their own thing, and we could get the hell out of here and do our thing, too. I mean, I know it’s hotter than Hades right now, and that this weather has become somewhat unpredictable, but if this upcoming winter is anything like last winter, chances are better than not you won’t survive.”

  “We’re staying,” Eudora said, simple as that.

  Draven looked back at her. Then, to Fire, he said, “You heard her. We’re staying put.”

  “I might have an idea,” Brooklyn said, “but you’re not going to like it very much.”

  Just then, Veronica burst through the front door and said, “He’s awake! Orlando’s awake!”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Now that my son is alert and doing well,” I tell Eudora, “we’re in a position where we can go. But if we go, this leaves you and Draven vulnerable.”

  “We have Morgan and the boys, too,” Eudora says. “Those boys have some pretty strong spirits.”

  “Morgan and the boys asked to come with us.”

  Telling her this isn’t easy. To me, it feels like a betrayal of resources, but I’m hoping it might sway her decision to come with us.

  “Well, they’ll be a strong addition to your group,” Eudora says, not breaking stride.

  “Dammit, Eudora, quit being so stubborn,” I say in the comforts of her own living room. “People died in here. In this house. Our neighborhood was turned into a battlefield, and if you don’t come with us, chances are better than not that it’ll happen again.”

  “Draven will take care of Demon and his people.”

  “What if he doesn’t?” I say. “What if he’s caught, or killed? What will you do then?”

  “I can take care of myself,” she responds, getting an edge to her tone.

  “Your ego is going to get you killed,” I tell her. “Just come with us. We’ll figure it out. All of this, you, the wheelchair…”

  “Only people around here with egos are chest thumping little shits like you,” she says, pointing a tired finger at me. “Now get out of my house and quit tying to make me do something I can’t!”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I say, pleading with her. “We can help you. Eudora, we’ll help you.”

  “I’m not going to be anyone’s burden,” she says, making and unmaking a fist of her hand. “You got too much on your plate anyways. It’s been nice to know you, and especially your brother, but you have to do what you have to do and I’ve got to do the same.”

  I don’t know what to do. Sitting there, losing this standoff, my heart is breaking. I’ve gotten close to Eudora since the EMP, as has my family and those around us.

  “You’re part of us, Eudora,” I say. “We’re family.”

  “Oh don’t get all weepy on me,” she said, “especially after that big speech about America’s men being pansies and all.”

  “I have a soft spot for you,” I admit.

  “As I for you,” she says, her tone softening, her hand coming to rest on mine. “I’m going to miss you.”

  And with that, I feel the sadness in me spread. Getting up, not knowing what to do or say, I tell her, “I’m going in with Draven tonight. We’re going to free those people and put down Demon and his bunch.”

  “Why would you risk that?” she asks.

  “Because if you can’t come with us, I’m going to make sure you’re as safe as possible before we go.”

  We head to Demon’s neighborhood that night, arriving just after midnight. Draven is already there, having given us specific instructions on when and where to meet.

  Ice, Eliana, Xavier and I move through the shadows as a team. We’re actually getting good at this, but then again, the only concern I’ve ever had was Eliana and she moves better than all of us.

  Adeline parked the bus a block back and is now waiting, but she expects to wait for up to thirty minutes before Eliana and Xavier begin moving people toward her.

  Speaking of Xavier, I worry about him.

  He doesn’t seem to have a death wish anymore, and he doesn’t look sad. Now he just looks conflicted. Killing those three guards did something to him, made him question himself, I think. You can’t go on a killing spree and not be affected.

  I know this. I’m affected, too.

  The sleeping sucks because of the nightmares, you can’t really find that place of inner peace because you know you took lives, and in the end, like Ice told me, the only real way to get through this spot is to kill more people. A lot more people. So many of them, you end up becoming numb to the idea of death and addicted to the idea of life.

  “In the old west,” Ice said a few days ago, “someone cheats in poker or steals your horse—or your wife—you’d just kill him and the law would be like, ‘Yeah, that’s justified.’ Think of this as the old west. Think of what we’re doing as justified.”

  “This isn’t the old west,” I told him.

  “Not yet it’s not.”

  “When I start riding horseback, you can tell me about cowboys and Indians.”

  “Okay, it’s more like the dark ages,” Ice countered. “After a good kill, people celebrated.”

  I’m hoping that after taking out Demon and the sadistic redhead who gutted our recovering drug addict, we can pour ourselves a drink and celebrate. It’s the only way I want to leave this neighborhood—with Eudora and Draven out of harm’s way.

  Draven meets us in the dark and says, “Right around the corner, the women and kids are waiting. There are exactly twelve of them. Who did you decide is going with Adeline to the drop site?”

  “That would be me and Brooklyn,” I tell him. “They can stay and get the place ready and I’ll bring the bus back for the rest of the group.”

  Draven nods, then says, “Follow me.”

  He jogs into the neighborhood, not as careful as we are, but when we get to the first group, we see one of the guards back near the bushes, dead.

  “How many left after that one?” I ask, nodding to the corpse.

  “Eleven,” Draven tells us.

  Nodding my head, looking at the group before us, all of them nervous and scared, but ready to go, I say, “You’re sure these people are fine? That they aren’t planning something? Because I don’t want to get ambushed on the way out of here.”

  “You have my word,” Draven says. “You’ll be safe. Besides, I’d never put you, Brooklyn or your wife in harm’s way.”

  In the back of his mind, all any of them had to do was get a blade around Brooklyn’s throat, or Adeline’s, and they’d get the upper hand.

  I push that thought out of my head, tell myself Adeline will have to drive. I’ll keep an eye on the group.

  “My daughter likes you,” I finally say.

  I don’t know why I tell him this, maybe because I’ve come to really like him, maybe because I feel she’d be safe with him, or maybe because I want him to try to convince Eudora to come with us.

  “Your daughter likes women,” Draven says halfheartedly.

  “No she doesn’t,” I say with a clipped laugh. “That’s just the kind of nonsense girls her age say. She likes you, trust me on this.”

  “With all due respect, Fire, I don’t want to talk about that right now. There’s a lot to do and if something goes wrong, any number of us could be in trouble.”

  I nod, finding myself respecting him even more.

  “Roger that.”

  We get the first group of people loaded on the bus without incident. Draven, Ice and Eliana hang back. Xavier says he wants to go with us.

  Draven says it’s okay, that they can manage the rest of them. He seems sure of himself, which is reassuring in and of itself. Then again, with Eliana and Ice, Demon’s group doesn’t stand a chance.

  “Are you okay?” I ask my former boss as we’re headed to the drop site. He looks down at Adeline, who’s driving, then leans in and says, “That other night screwed me up. Firs
t those three guards, then the four men in my house, and all those people I shot on the street…”

  “You’ll have to get past that, X,” I tell him. “We all will.”

  “I don’t know man,” he says.

  Just then we start to run into obstacles ahead.

  “Let me help Adeline navigate this road,” I tell him. Then, to Adeline I say, “Are you okay, or do you want me to drive?”

  “I got it,” she says.

  Looking down at her, after hearing what Adeline survived on her first day of training with Eliana, how she flipped her off and actually put a shot on the Guatemalan firecracker, I say, “I’m really proud of you.”

  Without taking her eyes off the road, she reaches out and takes my hand. Within twenty minutes and only some minor damage to the bus, we pull into the rail yard.

  I look back at Brooklyn and though I can’t see her face, I feel her emotions stirring. After what happened here, I can’t help the stirring of my own emotions. Brooklyn was right, though. No one will bother anyone here, and these people can leave in the morning to any number of vacant neighborhoods.

  Turning to Brooklyn, I say, “Are you okay with this?”

  “This was my idea,” she says.

  “I know, but are you really good with it?”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  If there’s anything to be said for us coming back here, it’s that we won’t be long. And the people we’re liberating, they won’t be here but for the night. Demon taught them to work together. Now they can continue foraging for food and shelter as a group, this time without that maniac pushing them forward.

  Adeline pulls up to the oversized building holding the four passenger cars, the bus’s dim headlights illuminating the large, rolling door.

  “I’ll get the door,” I say.

  I jump out of the bus, open the huge rolling door from inside, direct Adelie inside. Once we’re in, I shut the door as Adeline, Xavier and Brooklyn offload the supplies. While they’re doing their thing, I crawl up on the hood of the bus, then make my way to the roof where earlier we’d secured stacks of old lumber and fallen tree branches for this very occasion.