Last Stand (The Survivalist Book 7)

by Arthur Bradley

  “I assume you have room for Fry and the others?”

  “We’ll make room.”

  “And President Glass? We’ll take her back with us as well?”

  “Of course. The least we can do is give her a proper burial.”

  He nodded. “All right then, I’m coming too.”

  Chappie stepped away to coordinate their withdrawal from the bunker. Green and Lemay stayed a moment longer and then followed him. Only Carr, Mason, and Bowie remained behind, watching as soldiers shot their final snippets of video and gathered the personal effects of the survivors.

  Without turning to face Carr, Mason said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save her.”

  “Son, that wasn’t your responsibility. It was mine.”

  “Then I suppose we both failed her.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt she would see it that way.”

  Mason said nothing more. Carr was right, of course. Rosalyn Glass understood better than any of them that what mattered most was exposing Pike, and he suspected that she would gladly have sacrificed her life to do just that.

  General Carr put a hand on his shoulder.

  “You did the Marshal Service proud today. Don’t leave here thinking otherwise.”

  Mason felt a lump in his throat, and he didn’t dare speak.

  “I better get going,” said Carr. “Chappie’s an ornery old bird who would just as soon leave me behind. Keep up the good fight, Marshal Raines. Perhaps we’ll meet again one day, hopefully under better circumstances.”

  Mason watched as General Carr and the last of the soldiers traversed the long West tunnel. When they had finally gone, he and Bowie stood alone in the bunker. The walls were chipped from bullets and shrapnel, and splashes of blood were everywhere. It had been a hell of a fight, one that he should feel thankful to be walking away from.

  He looked down and saw Bowie studying him.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going too.” He squatted down and gave the dog a big hug, partly because he was thankful they had both come through the fight relatively unscathed, but mostly because he needed to feel the kind of unconditional love that only a dog could provide.

  Bowie replied in kind, pressing up against him and whining softly.

  As Mason stepped around the West tunnel’s huge blast door, he was surprised to find Lieutenant Bell and Private Rodriguez sitting back to back on a small grassy berm. The air had turned cool as the sun slowly set behind the hills to the west.

  When the cadets saw him, they quickly got to their feet.

  “Where’s Cobb?” Mason asked, fearing that he already knew the answer.

  Bell waited for Rodriguez to answer, and when he didn’t, she said, “He didn’t make it, sir. General Reed was kind enough to take his remains back for burial.”

  Mason nodded. “You two okay?” He couldn’t help but notice that Rodriguez had a bandage taped around his thigh and another across his left eye.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, bending down to pet Bowie.

  “What about you, Rodriguez?”

  The usually boisterous cadet looked to his feet.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  The young cadet clearly needed either a pat on the back or a kick in the butt. Mason thought that splitting the difference might work best.

  “You know,” he said, “with that patch, you look a bit like Snake Plissken.”

  Rodriguez looked up. “Who?”

  “You know, that guy from Escape from New York.” Mason tipped his head from side to side, studying him. “On the other hand, I suppose you could be Ragetti, the bungling sailor from Pirates of the Caribbean.”

  Rodriguez shook his head. “No, no, I think you had it right the first time.” He repeated the name slowly as if trying it on for size. “Snake Plissken.”

  “Either way, you’re going to be the butt of corny pirate jokes for the rest of your life. Might as well get used to it.”

  “Pirate jokes?” The ribbing seemed to help snap Rodriguez out of his funk of self-pity, and a mischievous grin crept over his face. “Hey, I’ve got one for you. What’s a horny pirate’s worst nightmare?”

  Mason shook his head. “I don’t know. What?”

  Rodriguez looked over at Bell.

  “Corporal,” she said, furrowing her brow, “don’t you dare say it.”

  “A sunken chest with no booty.”

  The glare turned into a smile and the shake of her head.

  “You’re awful.”

  “It wasn’t directed at you, Lieutenant. You’ve got, you know…” His eyes drifted down to her chest.

  “I swear to God, I will shoot you right here.”

  He laughed and held his hands up in submission.

  “Joking, Lieutenant.”

  Mason and Bowie moved closer, and the group stood for several minutes talking about what had transpired inside the bunker and out. When they had finished, everyone seemed utterly spent.

  “With the President dead, I don’t suppose we’re getting any medals,” Rodriguez said, gently touching the pad over his eye. “I should at least get a Purple Heart.”

  “Afraid not.” Mason reached out and shook Rodriguez’s hand. “I can only offer my thanks.” He nodded to Bell. “And to you as well, Lieutenant.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Your thanks is enough, Marshal.” She turned to Rodriguez. “Isn’t it, Sergeant?”

  “Sergeant?”

  “Call it a field promotion.”

  He smiled. “Sergeant Snake Plissken. I like it.”

  “Are you two headed back to Radford?” asked Mason.

  Both cadets nodded.

  Bell said, “The Corps is the only family we have. I guess that makes Radford our home. For now, at least.”

  “What about you, Marshal?” said Rodriguez. “Are you going home?”

  Mason looked down at Bowie. The dog looked as tired as he felt. The mission was over, and both of them needed a little R and R.

  “Yeah, home sounds pretty good to us too.”

  Chapter 22

  Samantha climbed out of the back seat of a blue Toyota Prius and stretched her arms high into the cool evening air. It had been a long trip home, involving not only a trek all the way back from Washington, but also a quick stopover at the Abner Cloud House. Dr. Jarvis had been understandably excited to hear about the success of the transfusion. In many ways, it was the path to salvation that he so desperately sought. Only time would tell whether his grand vision of using his blood to tame the hostility of the infected would ever come to fruition.

  “Ahh,” Samantha said, placing her hands on her hips and leaning back.

  Tanner slid his pack off the seat and bumped the driver-side door shut with his hip.

  “You said it.”

  Issa was the last to step from the car, wearing Tanner’s sunglasses and a black jumpsuit they had picked up for her along the way. She took a moment to study her new home. With its thick timbers, stone chimney, and carved wooden totem, it met all the requirements of an authentic, made-from-scratch mountain cabin. There were no signs of life at the moment, but the place maintained a warm, lived-in look.

  Samantha looked over at Issa. “Well? What do you think?”

  She smiled. “I love it.”

  “Wait until you see the inside. There’s food, water, and soft beds. You can even get a hot shower.”

  Issa pulled at her shirt. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a shower. A very long time.”

  “Really? We hadn’t noticed.” Samantha waved her hand in front of her nose, and they both laughed.

  “I’ll look and smell better once I clean up, I promise.”

  “It’s okay. We’re not too picky, are we, Tanner?”

  “Speak for yourself,” he said, stumbling off toward the cabin.

  Samantha and Issa quickly grabbed their gear and followed behind.

  “Why do you think Mason isn’t here yet?” Samantha said, scanning the windows.

  “He’ll be along.”
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  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because he’s a lot like me.”

  “Unkillable?” she said, playing off a joke he had made earlier.

  “Exactly.” And while some of it was fatherly bravado, Tanner was speaking from the heart. Mason was a hard man to kill. One day, his son might meet his match. But then again, he might not.

  When Tanner reached the top of the stairs, he set his pack by the door and flopped down in an old rocking chair on the porch. Within seconds, his eyes were pressed shut.

  Issa and Samantha moved to stand beside him, finally settling back against the wooden railing.

  “I suppose I should have warned you that he’s rather lazy.”

  Issa smiled but said nothing.

  “Plus, he gets grumpy if there’s not enough to eat.”

  “What man doesn’t?”

  “And don’t get me started on how stinky his socks are.”

  “I’m right here in case you hadn’t noticed,” Tanner said without opening his eyes.

  “No, we noticed,” said Samantha. “Come on, Issa. Let me take you inside and show you around.”

  The two disappeared into the cabin, and Tanner let the fog of sleep settle over him. It had been a long trip home, and the newfound burden of trying to keep two women alive had proved nothing short of exhausting.

  When Samantha came back out onto the porch a few minutes later, she found Tanner sitting perfectly still in the old chair.

  “Issa’s inside, cleaning up.”

  He said nothing.

  “Are we planning to stay home for a while?”

  Again, he didn’t answer.

  “Tanner?”

  Nothing.

  She stepped closer and nudged his shoulder.

  “You alive?”

  He cracked an eye. “I swear, you’re worse than my mother.”

  “Oh?” she said with a smile. “Did you ignore her too?”

  He reclosed the eye. “The answer is yes.”

  “Yes, you ignored her?”

  “Yes, we’re going to stay home for a while.”

  “Good. I’m tired of all the driving, not to mention sleeping in cars, fighting zombies, and blowing things up.”

  “I don’t know. Blowing things up was kind of fun.”

  After a long moment, she said, “So, what do we do now?” There was an earnestness to her question.

  “What do you mean? We eat. We breathe. We sleep. Same as every other day.”

  “Right.” She paused, clearly building up the courage to say something. “About what I said earlier, you know, about school…”

  He grunted.

  “Do you think we could at least find a few books for me to study?”

  “I’ll do you one better. First thing tomorrow, we’ll drive over to Boone and see about getting you into their school.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

  He grunted again.

  She walked over and flopped down in the chair next to his. They sat for several minutes, listening to the sounds of nightlife slowly coming alive as darkness took hold.

  Finally, she said, “Is it really over?”

  “Is what over?”

  “Everything. All the shooting and killing and knocking people in the head.”

  “For a while.”

  “But not forever?”

  “This is a knocking-heads kind of world. That’s not going to change anytime soon.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” She settled in and began to rock back and forth. “I like Issa. Do you think she’ll stay with us forever?”

  “I quit predicting what women will do a long time ago.”

  Samantha looked back at the cabin door.

  “I think she will.”

  He didn’t argue one way or the other.

  “With you two as my parents, I’m going to grow up to be really tough.”

  “You’re already really tough.”

  “You know what I mean. Tough like you.”

  “You sure you want to go down that road?”

  “Like you said, I don’t think I have a choice.” She reached over and put her hand on his. “Just so you know, I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

  He turned to her, finally opening his eyes.

  “What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Well, you are kind of old.”

  Before he could reply, she let out a little giggle.

  “Oh, you’re hysterical. I just got done saving the world, and here you are hassling me.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a big smile, “and isn’t it wonderful?”

  He laid his head back against the chair and closed his eyes.

  “Yeah, darlin’, it most certainly is.”

  Mason shut his truck off and sat staring at the cabin for nearly a minute. A blue Prius sat parked a few feet away, and he was confident that it had brought Tanner and Samantha home.

  Home. It was a word he struggled to hold onto. Looking at his family’s cabin should have generated feelings of nostalgia. Instead, it brought only memories of Leila and Ava. One had left him by choice. The other had been killed by violent men. Both had taken a piece of him with them.

  The door to the cabin swung open, and Bowie let out a little yip as Samantha appeared. Mason leaned across the cab and pushed open the door. The wolfhound immediately hopped out and raced up onto the porch, dancing around her. Mason took another long moment to collect himself before opening his door. He left his pack lying in the truck bed but brought his rifle along with him.

  As he trudged up the stairs, Samantha said, “Did you do it? Did you stop General Hood?”

  He managed a smile. “Yes.”

  Tanner appeared behind Samantha, and he and Mason exchanged a nod.

  “And my mom… Was she… was she there?” There was an uncertainty in Samantha’s voice. In a way, he suspected that she didn’t want to hear that her mom had been there. She had already accepted her mother’s death, and going back on a decision like that took a toll on a person’s soul.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but your mom’s dead.”

  She looked back at Tanner. “Didn’t I tell you?”

  He pressed his lips together and nodded, but his eyes told Mason that he knew the score.

  “Ooh, ooh,” Samantha said, hurrying forward to grab Mason’s hand. “We’ve got a surprise for you.”

  “What kind of surprise?”

  “You won’t believe it,” she said, pulling him into the house. “Tanner got married!”

  Mason, Tanner, and Issa sat up late into the night, discussing what had happened. As they spoke, Mason couldn’t help but marvel at Issa’s beauty. The virus had forever marked her, but it had also given her an exotic radiance unlike any woman he had ever met. More than that, there was a fierceness, a warrior spirit that only a certain kind of man could truly appreciate, let alone ever hope to tame. She and Tanner didn’t sit cuddling like teenagers at a sleepover. Instead, she sat poised on the arm of his chair, tall and strong, her dark eyes shining with interest as Mason told of his adventure.

  When he was finally finished, Tanner asked, “Where do you suppose Leila went?”

  “Home, I guess.”

  “All the way back to Israel? That would take some time, things being what they are.”

  “She’s already proven that she’s a patient woman.”

  “You going after her?”

  Mason had given the question a lot of thought while driving home. The whole situation struck him as something that could not be made right.

  “No,” he said. “What’s done is done.”

  Tanner nodded. “Good. There’s been enough killing.”

  “What will you tell poor Samantha?” Issa asked, glancing at the bedroom door.

  Mason slumped back into his chair, the past few days catching up to him at last.

  “I suggest that we leave things as they are, for now at least. There’s no reason for her t
o have to lose her mother all over again.”

  “But isn’t it better that she know the truth?”

  “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s better if we let a twelve-year-old girl think about tomorrow, instead of yesterday.”

  Issa smiled. “You’re right, of course. Still, someday she may discover the truth and seek revenge on her own. Samantha has a very strong spirit.”

  “But a forgiving one too,” added Tanner.

  Mason reached down to stroke Bowie’s head, and the dog’s tail began whapping against the wooden floor.

  “If one day Samantha decides upon revenge, Bowie and I will go along to make sure she has her justice.”

  “As will I,” said Tanner. “As will I.”

  Mason stuffed a few final supplies into his backpack before pulling the drawstring tight. He hoisted the heavy bag over one shoulder and quietly stepped from the bedroom. The shades covering the cabin’s windows were pulled down, and only small rays of morning sunlight sparkled around their edges. It had been three weeks since his big fight at The Greenbrier, and the cut on his arm was now nothing more than a pink scar. Bowie, too, seemed to be fully recovered as he danced around in front of the cabin door, eager to get underway.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mason said softly, “I’m coming.”

  He glanced toward the cabin’s other two bedrooms. No doubt Tanner, Issa, and Samantha were all still fast asleep. He nodded. It was better that way. Neither he nor his father were much for long goodbyes. He had already expressed his intention to leave the previous night, and there wasn’t much else to be said.

  He walked quietly across the room and eased the front door open. Bowie quickly darted out, and Mason followed, pulling the door closed behind him. As soon as he turned around, he saw Tanner sitting in one of the rocking chairs, a blanket and shotgun resting across his lap.

  “I figured you’d be asleep.”

  Tanner yawned. “The older I get, the harder it is to sleep past sunrise.”

  “That can be a good thing.”

  “I suppose.” Tanner looked at Mason’s backpack. “You sure about this?”