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Days of Terror

Page 7

by Jack Hunt


  After trekking through the woods for another twenty minutes he finally made it back to the camp. Clive was the first to stop him. He came jogging over, a look of relief masked his face.

  “You decided to stay?”

  He shook his head. “No, I just need to speak to Mack. Where is he?”

  “He went out with a group.”

  “Where?”

  “I have no idea. Look, come on, they’re making lunch. It’s good food.” He patted him on the back. “I’m telling you, Elliot is crazy to walk away from this. They might have a few screws loose but who doesn’t? At least they are treating us well, isn’t that all that matters?”

  He walked into a clearing where a pot was boiling away. The smell of soup drifted on the air. An aroma of meat and vegetables reached his nostrils and his stomach grumbled. Clive made a request to the guy dishing out bowls and handed one to Gary. “Here you go. Get that down you.”

  They took a seat a short distance away and sat on overturned logs. Gary scooped up the steaming juice and his taste buds exploded. “Damn, that’s pretty good.”

  “I told you. Elliot is out of his mind to think that we can create anything better than this. In some ways I kind of think he insulted Mack. The guy didn’t need to invite us into the fold. He didn’t need to feed us but he did. And in my books that carries a lot of weight.”

  “And how’s Wendy liking it?” Gary asked eyeing her talking to a few of the women in camp.

  “She loves it. I mean, okay it’s not home but maybe in time it will feel that way. I just know that sticking with Elliot is a surefire way to end up dead from starvation or violence. Here they offer protection around the clock. Even though Mack has gone out with a handful of men there are so many people that make up this community that it doesn’t matter. I feel safe here, so do Brian and Thomas. Anyway, why do you need to see Mack?”

  “I want to know where the FEMA camp is.”

  “You’re going there?”

  “I want to see what kind of operation they are running.”

  “Don’t you think if it was any good, these folks would be there?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. People have different reasons to avoid government-run camps.”

  Clive tucked into his soup, scooping it up fast. “Was that it?”

  “Well there is a matter of four men being impaled, but I figure that doesn’t matter.”

  Clive’s eyes widened.

  “You feel safe now?” Gary asked.

  “Well I’m sure there is a reason for it.”

  “Oh there is and I don’t think it has anything to do with decorating,” Gary muttered, finishing off his soup. He handed the wooden dish back to a guy who took it over to a bench where they had a large plastic container and several men and women were washing dishes with water pulled from the stream. Every so often someone would lug over more buckets and empty them.

  “I’ll ask him when he gets back,” Clive said. “Either way, he hasn’t harmed anyone in this camp and they don’t have any hard and fast rules. They like folks to help out but I’ve yet to hear anyone complain. That’s a lot different than forced labor which is what Calvin says is going on inside the compound.” He took his empty bowl over and handed it off. “Seriously, I think you should try and speak with the others. They know you. They’ll listen. It’s in their best interest.”

  “Is it?” Gary replied. “Listen, is Calvin around?”

  “Yeah, I saw him up in his hut.” Clive pointed to a tree farther down and Gary took off to go speak with him. Small planks had been nailed into the trunk and hanging down beside them was a rope, he climbed up and poked his head through a small opening in the flooring that went around the huts. Once Gary made it to the opening of his abode, he gave a knock. Calvin was lying down reading a book. He glanced over the top.

  “Gary, come in.”

  Gary looked around. It was decorated sparsely. He’d added some black drapes to his windows and tied them back, he had a proper-sized single bed in there and a side table and there was a small table that was covered in paper and artwork.

  “You paint?” Gary asked.

  “Yeah, it helps me to forget and remember.”

  Gary tossed him a confused expression.

  “My wife and I used to do it together. When I do it now she feels close.”

  He nodded. “You lost your wife?”

  “Four months ago. You?”

  “Just over two weeks ago,” Gary replied.

  He blew out his cheeks and brought his legs off the bed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Gary breathed in deeply. “Does it get any better?”

  “It’s always there,” Calvin said staring at the table. “But it doesn’t sting like it once did, so I guess that’s a good thing. Now there’s just a—”

  “Numb ache?” Gary asked.

  His lip curled. “Yeah. That about sums it up.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  “Look, um, I was hoping you might be able to direct me. Do you know about any FEMA camps nearby?”

  Calvin squinted. “FEMA? Why, you looking to go there?”

  Gary nodded.

  “You mind me asking why?”

  He shrugged. “When my wife was alive we had plans of heading to a FEMA camp in New York. After I lost her I really didn’t care where we went. But after traveling this far and walking away from two camps, I figure it can’t be much worse.”

  “You know you can stay here.”

  “They’re my friends,” Gary said. “I couldn’t do that to them.”

  “Clive did.”

  Gary snorted. “Clive’s an asshole.”

  “What? For wanting something good for Wendy and himself?”

  “He goes where he doesn’t have to do much.”

  “Well then he’s in for a shock. Right now he’s a guest but if he plans on staying here he will have to put in eight hours of work. All of us do. That might be doing reconnaissance, protecting the perimeter, scavenging in surrounding towns, maintenance, or involvement in cooking and serving. There is always something that needs to be done around here. Time keeps ticking and we all need to live.”

  Gary looked away.

  “What was it you did before this?” Calvin asked.

  “I was a cop.”

  “That’s right, I remember Elliot telling me.” He blew out his cheeks and chuckled. “Well I’ll be. Does Mack know that?”

  “No. Is that a bad thing?” Gary asked.

  Calvin rose to his feet and slapped him on the back. “No, it’s good. You see, everything we have built here has come from different people contributing. If you stayed you’d be a valuable member of our group. Mack certainly could use someone to intervene in community arguments and domestics. They still happen. Up to now I’ve taken on that role but someone like you could bring a lot to the table.”

  Gary’s brow furrowed.

  “What is it?” Calvin asked.

  “You all in the habit of torturing?” Gary asked. He just decided to come out with it. He wanted to know what they were made of and whether or not they gave a shit. Calvin chuckled as if finding something amusing.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then you want to explain what happened in Hemphill? As Elliot seemed pretty certain that’s what happened and after what I saw on the highway, it leads me to believe he’s telling the truth.”

  Calvin brought him up to speed on what had been done to them by Shelby and his cohorts. Once he was finished telling him he took a seat. Gary stared back at him beginning to understand. Grief could drive a man to all manner of heinous acts. The rage he felt inside for the one who’d murdered his wife still lingered in the pit of his stomach. He’d wished he’d been alive so he could have killed him as at least then he might have released some of the pent-up anger but now it just sat there swirling and fueling his reactions. It was the reason he’d been so snippy with the others on the journey down.

  Calvin walked over to a blue cooler, lifted
the white lid and pulled out a can of beer and tossed it at him. “Here! It’s from my own personal stash. Don’t tell anyone. I came across a twelve-pack when I was in town. I risked my ass, so I figured it was mine.” He grinned as they cracked open the cans. The surge of alcohol hitting his system felt good. Once it got into his bloodstream it would ease the tension.

  “Look, you want to go to this FEMA camp, I’ll go with you. I know where it is.”

  “You do?” His brow pinched. “You would do that?”

  “Don’t seem so surprised. I’m not saying I’m staying but it’s dangerous out there. You could use someone to watch your back.”

  Gary was taken aback by the offer. No one from his own camp was willing to do the same. Not that he expected it but it would have been nice to have company.

  “Sure, if you want. No pressure.”

  “If I didn’t want to I would tell you,” he said turning and grabbing up a backpack. “Just let me get a few things and we’ll head out. It’s at least half a day’s ride from here.”

  “You got horses?”

  “We do but I can’t take them without our council’s permission.”

  “Council?”

  He nodded. “We have a group of people in our community that was selected to handle some of the weightier issues. Things like the use of transportation have to go through them unless of course you’re Mack, and you can do whatever the hell you want.”

  Gary’s eyebrow shot up. “I detect a hint of sarcasm there?”

  He laughed. “Nah, we’re on good terms, it’s just he held back a number of things from the group and it’s cost us. Aaron was a good friend of mine and he’s still in the compound.”

  “But Mack plans to get him out, right?”

  He shrugged as he filled the bag. “Mack plans to do a lot of things. Whether that involves Aaron is another matter entirely.” He turned and faced him. “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Just like that?”

  He laughed. “Of course, it’s not like I have a doctor’s appointment or a job to go to. Let’s head out.” Gary followed him and climbed down. Clive noticed them getting ready to leave and made his way over assuming that perhaps Calvin had managed to speak some sense into him. In the meantime Calvin went and collected some food and water to take with them, along with some extra ammo.

  Clive’s brow furrowed. “You’re still going?”

  “Nothing’s changed, Clive. I hope things work out here.”

  “Right. Okay,” he said nodding. Wendy came over and slipped an arm around his waist. “Well, I guess we’ll be seeing you.”

  Gary tipped his hat and he and Calvin headed northwest through the forest.

  It was a long shot but Frank wasn’t one to stand back and wait for the next attack. The engines roared on the trucks, and the mufflers kicked out plumes of smoke as they rumbled out of the compound and over asphalt. In the back were twenty people, mostly those who wanted to prove themselves and move from the outer rim to the inner circle. After witnessing the way his men had been brutalized, he was more determined than ever to kill Mack, capture his group, and put them to work in a section of the compound. They didn’t have a concentration camp in operation, but already had that shithead Ryan Hayes, Timothy Heart and ten other men and women working away on erecting fences that would house prisoners. It would take time to convert them to his way of thinking but a week or two in the heat would soon break down even the hardest.

  He was not a man to send others out to do his work, so he and John went with the two trucks, leaving a select few to watch over the compound. One of the trucks would go to Hemphill and integrate themselves into the community, waiting for anyone from Mack’s camp to show up, and the other twenty, including him, would press into the forest and try to pinpoint where this asshole was staying. It was going to be an all-day job, but he had all the time in the world and there was nothing that got him harder than hunting those who went against him.

  He knew what he was up against with Mack. Mack wasn’t an amateur and there was a good chance he’d already been spying on the compound for some time.

  Frank drove while John rode shotgun.

  “How’s it feel to be back in clean clothes, fed and ready to kick some ass?”

  He cast a glance at him not looking impressed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “Eager. I like that.”

  “You know, I had a lot of time to think inside that sweatbox.”

  “Yeah, about what?”

  “You. Me. The compound. Life.”

  “And did you gain any revelations?” Frank said in jest as he focused on the truck ahead of him that was barreling down the road between the tall pines. The sky was a deep blue with hardly a cloud in sight. The warmth of the day heated up the inside of the cab to the point he had to bring his window down. Frank put his hand out and let the wind wash over it. No sooner had he done that than he felt a gun pressed against the side of his temple. He felt the cold metal barrel touch his skin.

  “You know I could kill you right now and the men would do nothing to me.”

  Frank said nothing.

  “Among all the things I thought about in that sweatbox was how I could kill you.”

  “Go on then,” Frank said with an air of confidence.

  John snorted. “Even with a gun to your head you’re an arrogant prick.”

  “Maybe but you won’t do it.”

  He pressed it harder forcing Frank’s head to one side. “Don’t push me, Frank.”

  “Go on then. Squeeze the trigger. Stop being a pussy and do it!”

  Out the corner of his eye he could see his brother staring at him with a look of death. Without hesitation, Frank reached up and grabbed his hand then lowered it.

  “You see, that’s the difference between you and me, John. When I say I’ll do something, I follow through. Now put that shit away before I beat you over the head with it.”

  John navel gazed then shifted and slipped the Glock back into his holster.

  Frank stared at his brother. “And yet some of the men would follow you. Isn’t that odd?”

  “Not really,” John replied. “I’ve earned the respect of those you’ve disrespected.”

  Frank drummed the wheel with his fingers. “Disrespected. Please, give me a break.”

  John snorted. “You wanted to know how I managed to get some of the men to vote against raiding the compound, well, there’s your answer but still you won’t acknowledge it because you’re too—”

  A loud popping sound, then the truck ahead swerved, and Frank slammed the brakes on. Ahead brakes could be heard screeching, tires blackened the road before the truck veered hard into the ditch and toppled over in a loud crash. Glass shattered. Several people fell out of the back. That’s when Frank saw what had caused the accident. In the road ahead, there was a spike strip. The same kind used by the police. It had taken out the tires.

  In an instant they came under attack with a flurry of rounds. Bullets ricocheted off metal, and the side window on their truck was shattered.

  “Back up!” John said.

  Frank jammed it into reverse and smashed the accelerator.

  They continued going until no more rounds were hitting them before he swung it around.

  “Where are you doing?” John asked, looking confused.

  “We don’t know how many of them are out there.” He slammed the gear in park and climbed out with his M4 in hand, he banged on the side of the truck and twenty people crammed in the rear hopped out.

  “Listen up. This is it. You want to earn your way into the inner circle and reap the benefits. Now is your time. Don’t hesitate to kill.”

  Like a stream of rats going over the edge of a dock into the water, they ran down into the ditch and up into the tree line and then moved forward towards the battle. John looked back at Frank as he remained by the truck.

  “Let’s go,” John said.

  Frank raised a hand. “No, stay here. Let them handle it.”

&n
bsp; “But you said…”

  “I said it’s their time to earn their way. You and I need to stay alive.”

  Things were different now. They had an army of people to help them. There was no point putting their lives at risk. The sound of gunfire filled the air and he watched from the safety of the truck. Both he and John climbed up onto the roof and dropped down to watch the bloodshed through binoculars.

  Chapter 8

  “What do you want?” Rayna asked Elliot for the third time. She’d asked to speak with him in private so they’d taken a walk through the forest to Carrice Creek, several miles away; it cut through the Sabine National Forest and flowed into Frontier Bay. The smell of pine filled the air, and a warm breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. Elliot stared into the slow-moving waters at all the shiny pebbles beneath.

  “I don’t know, okay?”

  “Then tell them that, they’ll understand.”

  “No they won’t. They want someone to lead them, to give them some sense that everything is going to be okay, but I don’t know if it will be, Rayna.” He placed his hands on his hips and dropped his head back to look up through the vast canopy of trees. The sky was a deep blue and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. “For the first time in a long while I don’t know what I want or what I should do. I brought you all here and it’s not worked out.” He cast a glance at her. He’d always been able to speak truthfully with Rayna without fear of being shunned. “In Lake Placid we knew where we stood but here…” he trailed off shaking his head. His thoughts were swirling and not making any sense.

  “But we knew there was a chance that it wouldn’t work out. We were prepared for that, right?”

  Elliot chuckled. “Always the optimist.”

 

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