“You ready to clear the rest of the house?” Sam finally asked.
Luke knew the shooting he’d heard outside finally stopped while he was dealing with these three yahoos. He hoped their friends were all in one piece, but now they were inside, this area remained their responsibility.
“Yes,” Luke replied simply. He remembered thinking he might find more things to kill, but for the longest time as they ranged through the small, cramped rooms, he only found death.
With the windows shuttered, they relied on their flashlights to provide some illumination, and even now, Luke’s mind shied away from some of the sights they’d been forced to witness. He tried to forget what they’d found behind the first door to the left, which led into the kitchen.
Inside, in addition to a filthy, rat-infested space where Luke was convinced no one had ever used a drop of dish soap in forty years, they stumbled across more horrors. Not only were the Wootens a pack of murderous scum, the family also practiced cannibalism, maintaining a meat locker packed with their victims, salted and preserved for later use.
“This is…” Sam tried to say but found his gorge surging and he vomited in the corner, joining his son in spilling the contents of his stomach on the filth-coated linoleum floor.
The rest of the rooms extending to the back bedroom were scarcely better, and Luke again tried to block out the memories of the Wootens’ house of horrors. No doubt remained about the fate of their neighbors, and Luke recoiled as they opened each door, since the deranged family seemed to make a hobby of not only eating people, but also playing with their food before delivering the final cut.
“I wish they were still alive, so I could kill them again,” Luke ground out, after kicking open yet another door into another bizarre cell. This one appeared to be some kind of art room, with drawings on the walls. Crude, but everyday images of houses, trees, the sun, and distorted human faces. After a moment of study, Luke realized whoever did the finger-painting had used what looked like blood, and he shuddered yet again.
“Maybe we’ll find more,” Sam replied sickly, “that evil woman said her husband was still in here somewhere.”
Sam proved to be prophetic, and they eventually came to a bedroom in the back of the house that contained yet another of the clan. He was an old man resting in a filthy cot, with crusty old bandages covering both arms and one of his legs.
Easing the door open slowly, checking for traps, Luke’s father saw the pathetic sight of the long-haired invalid, and made a sign for his son to watch their rear while he eased into the room.
“So, somebody finally done come,” the old man announced like he was talking about the weather. “Took you long enough. Where you from?”
“Sheriff’s office,” was all Sam said. He studied the man, taking in his jaundiced complexion, sunken eyes, and broken snags of teeth. He might have been fifty or eighty, and he stank as bad as the corpses they’d found stashed in some of the rooms.
“Well, you got me, Deputy,” he admitted with a cackle. Lifting his thin limbs, the old man held out his wrists. “I’ll come peacefully.”
“What’s your name?”
“Hiram Wooten,” came the phlegmy reply. “What’s yours?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said simply. “How’d you get hurt?”
“Some soldier boys,” Hiram whined, his ragged voice rising in indignation. “Wasn’t no call for them to shoot at us,” he continued. “We was just minding our own business, not hurting them any. Just coming back from doing some business in town and wham, we barely saw that big truck before they started shooting.”
“What kind of truck?”
“Big green beast. Looked like an Army truck, like they have on TV. Don’t know what you call it. They were just rolling fast, heading toward the highway is all I know.”
The absurdity of it all struck Luke then, as he stood listening at the door, eavesdropping on a madman complaining to his father about one group of murderers attacking his own pack of cannibal scum.
“How long ago was this?”
“I dunno,” Hiram tried to shrug, but bit his thin lip, instead at the pain. “Weeks ago, anyway. I was healing up some, but we ran out of them antibiotics we’d been collecting. Betty made sure the boys picked up anything like that they ran across when they was out hunting.”
“Is that what you called it? Hunting?”
“Man’s gotta eat,” Hiram fired back, getting his back up at the tone. “I won’t apologize for helping my family feed itself.”
“You’re killing and eating your neighbors.” Sam growled, his fury ramping up at this travesty of a human, daring to stand on injured pride.
“Not all of them,” Hiram fired back. “Some of them just died, without the government sending them their medicine. Others, not sure. I think they drank bad water. We just took stuff from their houses. Then the food ran out, and we had to start making choices. Still, we didn’t kill everybody. Some of the girls, well, they decided they would rather be with the boys, than face the alternative.” He added that last bit with a leering grin, and Luke saw his father raise his hand and then stop himself.
“Where was the truck coming from?”
“Down toward the old Jackson place, next county road south of here. There’s other houses down there or used to be. We went hunting that way a few months ago,” Hiram admitted with a shrug, “so not much left.”
“What time of day was this?”
“Dunno. Getting toward dark, I guess. They was moving fast and didn’t stick around, after shooting us with one of them machine guns. Killed my second to oldest boy Ollie, they did. Got me, well, you can see.”
“What day?” Sam urged, his face burning with anger and a need to know.
“We don’t exactly keep a calendar around here, son.” The old man laughed at that idea, and Sam gave in to his anger and delivered a backhanded slap, the sound of his gloved hand cracking in the stillness.
“Weren’t no call to do that!” Hiram protested, turning his head on a turkey waddle neck to glare. “I’m telling you best I know. I just didn’t note down the date is all. Hard to keep track anymore. I do remember, though. The next day, when we had the funeral for Ollie, it came a toad strangler of a storm. Rained all day and wind that blew like a bitch.”
Luke knew at that moment, they were never going to find the men responsible for his mother’s murder. They were never going to avenge Angeline Stanton, or little Rachel, or poor Maggie. That storm Hiram described could only have been the downpour that came the same day as the mass funeral at the ranch. The irony of these monsters burying one of their own, the same day as Luke and the remnants of his family were suffering the same agony, made the young man’s fury surge.
“We knew they were long gone, Pop,” Luke said to his father, and he saw the same sick realization in the older man’s face. “No reason to stick around after they did the deed.”
“What? Why were you looking for them soldier boys?” Hiram demanded, but neither man paid the invalid’s words any attention. “They is gone, and good riddance I say.”
“Betty’s your wife, Mr. Wooten?”
“Yeah. Been married…forty years, I guess.”
“You going to miss her? Your family, too?”
“What are you talking about? Did you hurt them?” Hiram demanded, the gravity of the situation finally getting through to him.
“Tell me, Hiram, how many boys you got here? I mean, after losing Ollie,” Sam asked.
“What cause you got to ask me that?” Hiram almost shrieked now, sensing what Sam meant.
“Well, we just killed Betty and three boys dressed up for Halloween in the living room,” Sam revealed, his tone matter-of-fact as he continued. “And the rest of my men just got through killing more of them outside. I was just wondering if you were going to have anybody left to bury your sorry old carcass when we get done with it.”
Luke remembered that was when he’d pushed the door open and added his own two cents to the conversation.
“I came here to get word about them soldier boys you mentioned, Mr. Wooten,” Luke said, his voice barely a hiss when he spoke, “but I’d be delighted to find out more about this business you’ve been doing in the area.”
There was more, lots more, to the chain of memories then, but Luke didn’t need to relive them now. Probably not ever. They’d spent the rest of the day making sure the Wooten clan had been properly exterminated, and in the end, David Metcalf spent four hours digging all the details out of Hiram Wooten as he detailed his crimes.
For Luke though, this revelation from an unexpected source confirmed his creeping conviction he was chasing a ghost. The ones responsible for killing his mother and damaging their fragile community were long gone, and the ones giving the orders were out of reach.
Luke knew about Captain Nathan Bartaloni, recruiting for the newly constituted Second Brigade of the Texas Army National Guard. The captain was working out of Nacogdoches, and he was only looking for a few good men and women, who could be folded into the units with minimal training. Prior service got preference, of course, but he struggled to find suitable applicants.
After the cleansing of the Wooten clan, Luke thought about the Guard. His interactions with the Texas version hadn’t been very satisfying, but he knew and trusted men serving in the Oklahoma and Arkansas National Guard, and both states had signed up for the Allied States pact, which many hoped would be a first step in reuniting all these troubled and battered states. Well, except maybe California. The mission for the Second Brigade now sounded promising: taking the fight to the Recovery Committee’s Commie forces and defending the only known functioning, conventional power plant on-line in the whole country. Surely, he could work his way into doing something that might avenge his mother in such a fight.
Amy hated the idea. She worried about losing her man after everything they’d been through, all the trials they had endured. In addition to very real risk that Luke could get himself killed, Amy knew Luke might also just completely lose himself in the fighting. The savage fighting spirit residing in Luke was capable of taking over for minutes or even hours if necessary, and she’d seen what price he paid after. Weren’t his nightmares already enough? She hated the idea, but she knew he was already slipping away from her, as his rage ate through every barrier he tried to erect.
“Amy, I can’t describe it,” Luke murmured one night when they laid together. He was brushing the long strands of hair back from her face, and Luke could still see the faint line of a scar on her forehead. Lighter than the surrounding flesh, the narrow strip of white reminded Luke that despite her warrior spirit, Amy was still vulnerable. That he never thought of himself that way, despite his own scars, showed that in spite of his increased maturity, he was still a youth in many ways.
“I get it. This is about what they did to your mom,” Amy said softly, caressing Luke’s face in turn. She then turned in Luke’s grasp, her eyes boring into his. “Believe me, I understand. It wasn’t some faceless drone operators that killed my parents, Luke, and I still want revenge for what happened. But you can’t let this eat you alive.”
Luke, despite his tortured emotions at the time, recognized the strength in this woman he’d been fortunate enough to call his own, whether he deserved her or not. Despite invoking her own ghosts, none of the words were directed to her own needs. She was trying to help, and heal, and she was showing him her devotion the only way she knew.
“Sweetheart, I’m not giving up on you, on us. I’m still hurting. Maybe I will be for a long time. But this is something more,” he replied earnestly, trying to engage with her. “After I met you, I thought…once I realized the feelings we shared were real, my only goal was to get you here, home. I had the idea that once we reached the ranch, we would be safe.”
“But we aren’t, are we?” Amy added, seeing the point Luke tried to make. “As long as this fight continues, nowhere is truly safe.”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean. But what if we could end this war?” Luke asked simply. “I’ve heard how the Committee members have their pet raiders out stirring up trouble, trying to divert support from the states actively engaged in the conflict. What happened here, the attack that happened, must have been part of that effort.”
“But you’re just one man, Luke,” Amy insisted, her tone pleading now. “What can you do? I don’t mean to hurt your feelings here, honey, but you might not be able to make any difference. And what if you…what if something happens?”
Over a month later, and Luke still remembered the tears as they spilled down Amy’s cheeks, a flow of crystal that glowed pink in the faint light. He recalled the way Amy had rephrased her question, not even willing to give life to the words; what if you died?
“Amy, you know I’m far from perfect, honey. I know I can be hurt. But, you know how I can get sometimes, too. There’s something inside, something that scares me a little bit. You’ve seen it.”
Her cautious nod. “The berserker.”
“Yes, that. And you know it’s getting worse. I’ve got all this anger, all this hate, that’s just building up inside of me. I worry about what will happen.”
“Luke, I know you’d never hurt me,” Amy insisted too quickly, and Luke felt his cheeks burn with shame. She worried, too.
“I’ve got this burning force inside of me, Amy, and I’ve got skills. Skills the Army might be able to use. I thought we would be safe here, away from everything, but I was wrong. Been proven wrong time after time. We’re still part of everything, even here.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” Amy insisted, as Luke knew she would. “I’ve had training now, and I know how to fight too. We could go together.”
“I know you can, my sweet, fiery girl,” Luke replied honestly, and he tried to project his respect. “I’d love to have you covering my back, and vice versa, but look around this place. Everybody, even Sheriff Henderson, is looking to my dad to keep the whole community running,” Luke said. “And he’s turning into a zombie. Paige still won’t come out of her room on most days.”
“I know, but what can I do to change that?”
“Just do what you’ve been doing,” Luke explained, his patience wearing thin as he tried to lead her to the truth. “Mike and David are doing all they can, but Mike isn’t really a ‘take charge’ kind of guy, outside of the technical stuff. A lot of folks still see David as a newcomer, no matter how much extra firepower he brings to the table. But you are helping. Dad already sees you as another daughter, and he listens when you make suggestions.”
Luke knew his words struck home, but he wasn’t trying to force Amy into anything. He wanted her to realize the impact she had on others like he already saw. “Honey, I know you’re only fifteen, and it’s a heavy burden I’m asking you to take on, but stop and think. You are already the lady of the manor. Everyone, even Beth, listens when you have something to say. Dad might be the leader, but you are a big part of making things run.”
“And what about you? About us?”
“Amy, let me be crystal-clear,” Luke intoned carefully. “I’m a basket full of snakes right now, and you should be running far and fast from me. But you won’t,” Luke said quickly, not wanting to give her the wrong impression. He didn’t want her to bolt, but he owed her the unvarnished truth. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be worthy, but right now, I need to do this, if I’m ever going to be. Let me go now, and I’ll be back in the spring.”
“And then?”
“And then we’ll have that wedding we’ve talked about.”
“I’m going to hold you to that promise.” Amy’s threat was without force, but he could read the sincerity in her eyes.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The kiss that came next led to other things, and Luke was still remembering those other things when he felt the helicopter lurch under his feet, and he opened his eyes. He heard the collective cycle down and then Scott was in front of him, offering a hand.
“Enjoy the nap? I knew you
’d be fine, once you got used to the motion.”
Luke nodded, not bothering to correct Scott’s misperception. “Let’s go see what’s cooking, shall we?”
CHAPTER 51
Luke felt a bit confused at first by their location when the helicopter dropped the two men at a blacked-out hanger a half mile from the actual airport. As soon as Luke’s boot tread hit the tarmac, the Huey surged back into the air and took off to the east.
“What just happened?”
“Probably heading to a prepared airbase for refueling and security. They dropped us here because this is a nice landmark, but likely too well-known for operational use. I didn’t even know the locals were using this facility at all,” Scott replied, then fell silent when the wooden side door of the hanger cracked open and a uniformed Guardsman emerged. He carried a rifle on a single point sling, but approached with his hands raised, showing nothing more threatening than a clipboard. Probably a good idea when dealing with troops coming in off the front lines. He looked like he might be in his late twenties, but the tired expression on the guard’s face made it hard to place his age. War had a way of aging the survivors.
“You Major Keller? Sergeant Messner?”
Keller responded in the affirmative, assuming a seemingly relaxed posture that Luke recognized. Feet spread, toes slightly pointed out and knees bent a fraction. He was poised, ready to spring into action. Luke didn’t immediately recognize the fighting style, but he made sure to likewise ready himself.
“Well, come on inside,” the staff sergeant said, his voice raised slightly to be heard over the clatter of the departing Huey. “Still got a few more hours, if you want to get some shuteye. We’re waiting for dark to run the rest of you visitors into town.”
“Lead on, Staff,” Keller replied, “we will follow.”
Satisfied, the staff sergeant playing gate guard turned on his heel and headed back. Luke and the major fell into step, but both men entered with their hands resting on their pistols. But the dim lighting revealed nothing more threatening than cots set up in four long rows, running down the middle of the mostly empty space of the hanger.
Midnight Skills Page 39
