by Lee West
Chapter Seven
The hike out of the park was mercifully uneventful. They managed to avoid most people on the trail by either sneaking off into a concealed location as other hikers walked past, or staying off the trail entirely. The few people they did encounter seemed to be harmless, lost souls, looking for refuge in the park. Despite their string of good fortune avoiding a confrontation throughout the day, Sam worried that their luck would run out. He knew the contents of their packs were worth more than gold in this changed world. The supplies they carried on their backs allowed them to survive without support for at least a few more days, depending on how much they ate. Such an open display of resources made them targets for those less fortunate.
“Do you recall exactly where Charlie’s house is?” asked Sam, his voice weary.
“Not really. I know it’s just past Porter, going toward Evansville. I think once we get into town, I should be able to recognize the street.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to walk through town.” Sam shifted the weight of his pack.
“I’ve been thinking the same thing, but going through Porter will allow us to get a handle on the situation. We don’t even know when all of this started, whatever all of this is.”
“Okay. Porter is a small town. We stay off Main Street and we should be fine. Let’s look at the map for a minute to figure out the best way in.” Sam produced a new map from one of his cargo pockets.
“I didn’t know you brought a state map? I figured we would be moving with just a compass after leaving the park.”
“Really? What kind of survivalist would I be if I didn’t carry an area map?” said Sam before winking.
Spreading the map on the ground, Jane easily pointed out the location of Charlie’s road. Sam knew she could do it with a map in front of her. He was relieved that he’d decided to include the state map—a last minute addition he’d almost left at home.
“If we take Liberty most of the way, we should be able to leapfrog behind buildings, mostly keeping off the main roads. Then we can cut across this farm and approach Charlie’s from the west,” she said, tracing the map with a stick.
“Based on the pace we maintained, we might not get to Charlie’s house before seven tonight.”
“Probably not. Why do you look so worried?”
“Well, if we get delayed in any way, we might end up at his house after dark. We have no way to let him know we’re coming, and I would prefer not to get shot.”
“Good point. The only way to guarantee a daylight arrival is to pick up the pace. What do you think about ditching some of our stuff to lighten the load? Maybe if we can move faster, we’ll avoid trouble on the road. Moving faster and avoiding trouble might be more useful than some of the things in our packs. Besides, we have everything we need at home to survive for a long time.”
“I would love a break from this pack, and being more nimble, especially in a populated area, isn’t a bad idea. But we have no idea what we’re facing or how long we might be on our own. This is especially true if an EMP caused the electrical outage. We also don’t know what we’ll find at home. Our supplies might not be there when we get back. I think we both know that,” said Sam, in a kind voice.
“I know. It has been easier for me to visualize Lea waiting for us in a house stocked to the gills than face any other scenario.”
“Let’s try to pick up the pace as much as possible. We have to deal with one thing at a time right now.”
They walked hand in hand toward the town of Porter.
Chapter Eight
Porter stood quietly in front of them, beckoning Jane and Sam to step out of the forest. Maybe a little too quiet. Following the plan, Sam and Jane moved quickly along Liberty Road, catching glimpses of Main Street as they made their way through the outer edge of town. Porter’s once lively and quaint downtown area had been ransacked. Most of Main Street’s ground-floor windows had been broken; the doors were either ripped off the hinges or sitting wide open with no sign of resistance. The sheer desolation rattled Jane.
“Where is everyone?” asked Jane.
“That’s the big question. You’d think we’d see or hear some kind of activity. Unless—”
“I know what you were going to say,” she said. “Hold on. I want to check something out. Wait here.”
“What? What do you mean wait here? Where are you going?” He leaned up against the remains of a smashed car.
“I just want to get a clearer view up Main Street. I keep having this unshakable feeling that we’re being watched. I’ll be right over there—no big deal. I’ll stay concealed.”
Jane dropped her pack next to Sam and quickly jogged between the buildings to the corner. She slowly peered around the side of the building, scanning Main Street. What she found deeply disturbed her.
Bullet holes riddled the buildings in frantic crisscross patterns. The holes indicated that the shots were fired from both directions, into the buildings and from the buildings themselves. Massive dark stains adorned the sides of the buildings and human remains littered the walkways. Crudely written graffiti covered some of the structures, taking her breath away.
DOWN WITH PIGS—KILL THEM ALL!
Many simply stated NEW ORDER. A few appeared to have been scripted in blood. The darkened substance streamed down from the crude letters in a macabre reminder of just how far things had changed. Jane had no doubt this was a warning to those threatening the “new order.” Either way she knew they needed to get away from here as fast as possible.
Turning to return to Sam, Jane froze in her tracks at the sound of a large engine rumbling down the street. Out in the open, with only the side of the building to shield her, Jane knew she needed to make a quick decision. Run to Sam or find concealment nearby. Sensing she wouldn’t have time to reach Sam, she dove behind a large metal dumpster next to the building, hoping she would not be seen from the street. She glanced at Sam to be sure he heard the vehicle’s approach.
Sam peered at her from around the side of the derelict vehicle, where he had rested during her scouting mission. His face mirrored the sheer panic she felt. Jane knew she could not move to him until the threat passed. She signaled to him to stay put and that something was coming. He nodded and quickly heaved their packs into the back of the car to keep them hidden from view.
A dusty old red pickup truck moved slowly down Main Street, headed in her direction. Jane willed herself to melt into the brick façade of the building she leaned against, certain that the vehicle’s arrival signaled trouble. Her instinct paid off.
Five rough and hardened-looking men, wearing face-shielding bandanas, rode in the back of the pickup truck; the words NEW ORDER were spray-painted in white on the side facing Jane. Each carried a different weapon. A few had pump-action shotguns similar to those fielded by local police departments. The rest carried crude, makeshift weapons like shovels, hammers and pitchforks.
Tied to the rear bumper of the truck, a naked man walked shackled and handcuffed. The man’s face was badly beaten—his eyes swollen shut. He blindly shuffled forward, a garland of golden police shields clinking around his neck. Jane recoiled in horror when she saw the man’s various bruises and the deep angry red lash marks crossing his back.
“Make him run!” yelled one of the men.
The shouts and laughter of the other men rang out in the once peaceful town. The driver sped up, causing the man to pick up his pace to a fast jog.
“Run, pig!” shouted another man.
Eventually the chained man stumbled and fell, his body leaving a bright red streak down the center of the road as it dragged behind the truck. She lost sight of the macabre spectacle as the truck sped away, not daring to move her head to readjust her view. Judging by the squealing of tires as the truck rounded a corner down the street, she couldn’t imagine the man tied to the back had survived.
It took Jane a few minutes to recover from what she’d just witnessed. She looked at Sam and wondered if he’d seen the
same thing. Given the look on his face, she assumed he’d witnessed enough. Jane jogged over to Sam as fast as she could.
“Did you see that?” she asked desperately.
“I wish I hadn’t. Can’t un-see something like that. What is going on?”
“I have no idea. He had a string of police shields around his neck. My guess is that he was Porter PD. We need to get off the streets, fast.”
Rifle shots pierced the quiet town, causing them to question where they could find safety in the New Order.
Chapter Nine
Rusty Evans sat in her rocking chair, slowly swaying to remembered music playing in her head. The sound of rifle fire touched her ears, but roused no reaction. Gunfire, shouts and the tortured screams of neighbors were the new norm for Porter residents. She did the best she could to stay clear of the shuttered windows, just like her grandson, Johnny, had advised.
“Ain’t nothing good to see, Granny,” was what he’d said before being forced to leave by the men claiming to be the new police.
She hoped Johnny would talk sense into the men. Convince them to stop the horrible things they were doing. Mostly she hoped Johnny would come home in one piece. Things had fallen apart since the lights went out. She had two cans of string beans left in her pantry, and the water had stopped running a few days ago. She’d filled the tub, sinks and all of her pots, pans and glasses with water, like her Johnny had told her—but the supply wouldn’t last forever.
The muted thump of a car door quietly closing drew her attention. Sounds like that got the better of her curiosity. Someone was sneaking around. Maybe her grandson was back. Instead of Johnny, she saw a man and woman hiding behind her neighbor’s smashed car. Although she did not recognize them, she did recognize the look. They were runners. People either trying to get out of town or passing through in a hurry. In either case, things generally did not end well for that sort of folk.
Looking a little further past the couple, Rusty spotted a red streak running down Main Street and turning onto Ash Street. A bloodied body punctuated the end of the grisly line, lying crumpled against a telephone pole beyond the intersection. Looking closely, Rusty was able to identify the body as that of Deputy Robert Seits of the Porter Police Department.
Like the others, he was a nice man who had always done a good job for the people of Porter. She wondered how many police officers were left. Looking at Deputy Seits’s necklace, she knew there could not be many. The first officer killed wore one badge. Each officer after the first added his or her own badge to the necklace.
Going back to her rocking chair, Rusty sat down wearily, knowing she would have to wait a little longer for Johnny to return. If anyone could keep her safe, it was her grandson. He’d survived far longer than most his age.
Chapter Ten
Strings of burs from the field they crossed covered Sam’s pants pricking against his exposed hands when they brushed against his legs. Normally, he’d spend the time removing each and every annoying bur, but they were on a tight timeline to reach Charlie’s house before dark. Sam estimated that Charlie’s house sat a quarter mile into the woods beyond the field. Their progress had been slow. Each time a New Order truck with its mean-looking men rumbled past, they were forced to seek a concealed location.
At one point, Sam was sure they had been spotted by one of the men. An extremely tall, lanky New Order guard looked right at Sam before casually turning away. He would have sworn the two of them locked eyes. If Sam had to guess, he would say the man chose to ignore them. He wasn’t about to stake his and Jane’s lives on that guess, but it gave him some hope that the world hadn’t completely gone insane. After the encounter, they moved slowly and carefully, each movement thought out to maximize their stealth.
Several yards beyond the tree line, Sam halted. “Let’s take a break. I need to make a last minute adjustment to our trek.”
“Okay. I have to pee anyway,” replied Jane.
Placing their packs on the ground, Sam and Jane sat facing each other.
“I cannot believe that we saw three New Order trucks and no other vehicles,” said Jane.
“It’s almost like any working vehicle has been commandeered for their use. They look like lunatics.”
“I wonder what else has been commandeered for their use,” she said, a disgusted look on her face. “I’ll be right back. Just a quick trip to the ladies’ room.”
Sam watched Jane walk along the tree line. He knew she needed privacy, but hated having her out of his sight. Considering the circumstances, he wished she would relieve herself a little closer. Instead, to his complete annoyance, she insisted on walking a good distance from him and disappearing into the woods. Women, Sam thought as he gulped warm water from his dirty CamelBak hose.
“Flat on the ground, asshole,” said the deep voice of a hidden man.
A furtive glance over his shoulder revealed a man wearing military-style woodland camouflage. A matching body-armor vest, several bulging magazine pouches, and a suppressed AR-15-style rifle told Sam he was either saved or screwed. The suppressor worried him. This guy could shoot them and nobody would hear it.
“Okay, you got—”
“No talking. Slowly lower yourself to the dirt or I blast a hole through your miserable head,” said the man in a loud whisper.
Sam lay flat on the ground, his nose pressed against the dirt and his sweaty fingers laced behind his head. Thoughts of Jane consumed him. Unsure of her location or if the man acted alone, Sam sought to buy time. He hoped Jane would see the interaction and remain hidden.
“I’m just walking through town. I’m not causing harm to anyone,” said Sam in a loud voice.
He hoped to alert Jane before she returned so that she would remain hidden until he could handle the situation.
“I don’t give a shit where you think you and your friend are going, you’re not going there now. Slide your weapon to me, very slowly and very carefully,” said the man.
“I’m alone. It’s just me,” shouted Sam with a scared lilt.
“You always carry two packs, asshole?” said the man.
Sam knew he had only a moment to change his predicament before the man either blew his head off or Jane walked into an ambush. He desperately sought a solution through the dense mental fog of his fear.
“Stand down, Charlie! It’s Officer Archer, Evansville PD!” yelled Jane.
Oh shit, here she comes. She should have stayed hidden, thought Sam.
“What the hell?” replied the man.
“Charlie, it’s me, Jane Archer. You have my husband on the ground. Please lower your rifle and let him up,” pleaded Jane as she cautiously moved toward Charlie.
Jane moved toward the man, carefully positioning herself between Sam and the shooter. Sam twisted his head to get a better look.
“Jane?” said the man, looking at her with stunned recognition. “Geez. Sorry, man. I thought you were another scumbag with the idea to replenish his supplies from my house.”
“No worries. Just glad you didn’t shoot first and ask questions later,” said Sam, trying to force a smile through the anxiety he still felt.
“I usually do, but I saw two packs. Didn’t want to start shooting until I could see both of you,” said Charlie.
A vehicle engine revved in the distance. Jane and Charlie looked in the direction of the sound.
“Shit. Not them again. Grab your stuff. We have to move fast,” said Charlie, with a quick glance around.
Sam jogged behind Jane and Charlie, unsure where Charlie was headed. By his calculations, they should have been going in the opposite direction Charlie ran. After everything they’d witnessed, Sam did not trust anyone, even Charlie. Sensing danger, Sam halted.
“No. We’re not going any further until you tell us where we’re going,” shouted Sam with a rough hand on Jane’s shoulder, stopping her.
“Sam, what are you doing?” asked Jane.
“He’s taking us in the opposite direction of where you thought we
should go. We should be headed in that direction,” said Sam, pointing away from the group.
Glancing at Jane, Charlie said, “Suit yourself. But if they catch you, they’ll kill you on the spot.”
“Okay, guys. Take a deep breath. Sam, could you pull out the map? Perhaps Charlie could show us the location of his house,” suggested Jane.
“We don’t have time for this,” said Charlie.
“Humor me, please,” said Jane.
Sam yanked the map out of his pocket and tossed it to Charlie, with an annoyed flick. Charlie unfolded the map, turned it to face them and explained.
“My house is right here,” he said, and jabbed his finger on the map.
Sam noted that the place Charlie pointed to was exactly where Jane thought he lived. Sam and Jane looked at each other, stunned.
“Charlie, what is our current location?” asked Jane.
“Right here.”
Charlie pointed to a spot nowhere near the location Sam would have guessed they were. Every time they had to hide from a passing vehicle, they must have meandered a little off track. Sam thought they had stayed close enough to the intended route, but judging location became difficult in a wide-open field. Obviously they were way off course.
“You were about to walk straight into the New Order clubhouse. Should’ve let you volunteer yourself,” said Charlie, glancing at Sam.
Realizing their mistake, Sam’s face colored a deep red.
“Sorry, man. It has been an unbelievable couple of days. Trust is running thin at this point,” said Sam, offering his hand. “Jane speaks very highly of you. I should have taken that as gospel.”
